A Mother's Plight
by mrsmcclnt
Summary: Down and out with no where to go, Meope Gaunt nears her final days of her pregnancy. She tries to look forward to motherhood but she is beseeched with visions of death and terror as she grows further along. Fearing she might be going mad, Merope seeks hel
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: _A Small Price to Pay_

Merope stood at the corner of the alley trying to warm herself in the darkness. Her clothes were a bit tattered and her coat had some patchwork on it but she looked somewhat presentable, enough to walk around in public.

Her living situation had slowly been declining ever since Tom had left. The deep loneliness she had been feeling had driven her out of the home they had shared and onto the cold streets of London. Over the months she had either been sleeping on park benches or in Muggle homeless shelters. But recently she had resorted to sleeping in alleyways near trash dumpsters to protect herself from the cold. The homeless shelter where she had been staying had begun to get overcrowded, so she had decided to leave. But it wasn't because of the people; it was more so because of her. It seemed the slightest bit of agitation from her would cause some very odd things to happen.

Merope remembered that before she had left a few nights ago, she'd been trying to get some sleep. There'd been a lot of snoring in the room so she'd been having some trouble getting rest. The next thing she knew she was standing over an old woman with a pillow in hand, ready to snuff her out. If it hadn't been for the tiny gasp from the little girl who was sleeping next to the old woman, she didn't know what could have happened. She immediately got herself together and left soon after to keep herself from being exposed. She'd stayed in the streets since then.

Merope caught a glimpse of her disheveled self at a nearby window. Time can be so cruel when you're down on your luck with nowhere to go. And lately she had been feeling that time had been running her down. She could tell that whatever fat reserves her body had stored had been totally depleted from hunger. She started to pick at her features a little, trying to make herself look less defeated than she felt. A little rat was somehow was stuck in her matted hair. She wasn't scared of the creature. She actually owed him her gratitude. In times of hunger she would follow the rats to see if they would lead her to some refuse that would have a morsel of food for her to eat. Sometimes she would get lucky with the remains of a bottle of ketchup that she could mix in some hot water to make a cup of tomato soup. But oftentimes she would not be so fortunate and would have to rely on warm water to hold off the hunger. Filling herself up with hot water would often fool her stomach into thinking that she had eaten. It didn't quite fool the baby, but at least her mind could concentrate enough on how to get herself out of her circumstances, instead of how much she was starving.

She did a sideways glance at her reflection in the window. "It won't be long now," she muttered under her cold breath as she eyed her growing belly. She was able to smile some as she thought of her little bundle. She wasn't sure whether it would be a boy or girl, but she still felt grateful for the child. Somehow she would make a way for them both so they wouldn't have to keep struggling like this. She had been able to pawn a few possessions that Tom had given her during their marriage. The money had given her a few things and some decent meals to eat. Now she was down to her last valuable item. Hopefully it would give her enough to get by just for a little while longer. And maybe, just maybe, it would be enough time to turn things around again. The baby moved just a little as if it were gesturing her to the door of the building. She'd almost forgotten that she had come here for a reason. She made her way inside the shop.

The dimly lit place was filled with old antiques and some strange oddities. There were some things that she was familiar with, but others she looked at with a sense of fascination. There was an old decrepit hand that sat on the mantel by the fireplace. She was about to reach out and touch it when the baby prodded her in the other direction. She walked up to the large counter and was greeted by the shop owner, Mr. Burke, who looked very busy going over his receipts for the day.

"How can I help you?" he said without a glance in her direction, carefully shuffling around some paper.

"Umm … I was wondering how much I could possibly get for this?" She went to her pocket and pulled out a lovely trinket to place on the counter. Mr. Burke did not see it at first amongst all the paperwork he was riffling through. But as soon as his eyes hit the pretty locket he stopped dead in his tracks. He was careful not to give any reaction. He slowly looked at the girl then looked back at the jewelry, then back at the girl again.

"And WHERE did you get this?" he asked with an air of disbelief.

"It's mine. It was passed down to me through family," she said almost defiantly. But she was careful not to offend despite his implication. Mr. Burke looked at her a little more closely.

"I see the Serpent's mark on the item," he said.

"Yes. Its genuine," she replied meekly.

"Hold out your hand," Mr. Burke told her. She was confused at first but she dared not question him. So she did as she was instructed. He took the item and placed it in her palm. Then he pulled out his wand and did a slight motion over it. The locket glowed green in her hand. Mr. Burke put on some strange-looking spectacles to look at the trinket more closely. There was a little gleam of excitement in his eyes, but he was careful not to show any more enthusiasm than that. He did a few more motions of the wand over the item as if he was trying to check for something. But it seemed like every test he gave it came up with the same positive results. Again Mr. Burke looked back at the girl, and then looked at the locket. He let out a deep breath, almost in disappointment, like he did not want to part with his money.

Merope stood there anxiously waiting for him to say something. She wasn't sure what all these tests were, but she hoped that the locket would bring her something, anything, to help her get by. Mr. Burke reached under the counter and pulled out a small wooden box.

"I'll give you ten Galleons for the locket," he said.

"Ten Galleons?" she replied. She would have been grateful to get anything, but TEN Galleons for an authentic family heirloom?

"Ten Galleons," he said firmly. "Look, I have no use for lockets around here, Miss. But I'll make you this offer seeing as though you could use it," his eyes motioned to the lump under her coat.

Merope felt a little shame come across her face. She almost couldn't speak. She knew her appearance was substandard, but for him to make reference to her apparent situation was slightly embarrassing. But then she felt a surge of anger come out of nowhere. She could hear strange little hissing noises in her ears, but she didn't know why and she could not make them out. The anger within grew more and more.

"How dare he!" she thought to herself.

There was a gust of wind that came around them and blew some of Mr. Burke's receipts to the floor. The lights seemed to flicker as the gust gained force. Mr. Burke was startled to see his carefully organized papers being tossed about all over his shop. Yet the girl stood there calmly as he frantically tried to collect his work from the ground.

The baby moved around, kicking within her. It was almost as if the child was egging her on. She felt her hand wrap tightly around the wand in her pocket. The grip on it was so tight that she thought it might snap under the pressure. But then she was coming to her senses and started to feel scared of the deep-rooted hatred brewing inside her. It wasn't like her to be like this! She took a deep breath to get ahold of herself. Slowly the wind died down and the lights returned to normal. Mr. Burke was almost out of breath when he finally got his receipts together.

"I'll take it," she said. Mr. Burke looked startled. He was trying so hard to get his receipts that he had forgotten the deal he had made. The moment had left him shaken. He hastily reached into his box and pulled out the agreed amount. She took her Galleons and smiled at him gratefully. Mr. Burke gave a nervous smile back.

"It's a small price that we must pay to get the things we need," she told him. Then she turned around and walked out of the shop.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he said as she left.


	2. Chapter 2

This is just little ambiance to set the tone of the story. Some of you die hard "Dark & Angst" fans may find this a bit romantic. But sometimes you have to see the positive side to things before you can compare the negative.

So fear not… we'll be spiraling into darkness soon.

Chapter 2: _A Little Nostalgic _

Diagon Alley was lit up with so much holiday cheer that one would have to take a minute to stop and stare at the excitement bubbling around the place. All the shops were brightly lit and neatly decorated with all sorts of ornaments and displays. People were looking forward to the New Year. It was really a sight to see. But at the moment, Merope was under so much stress that she could not pay attention to her surroundings.

"What's come over me?" she thought to herself as she walked down the alley.

Her mind was still back at shop with Mr. Burke. She had had instances similar to that during her first few months of pregnancy, but nothing this strong. And with each instance it kept getting worse … much worse. For a moment, she had had the chilling sensation that she was going to kill Mr. Burke … and enjoy it!

"I must be going mad," Merope thought. She had never wanted to hurt anyone that badly - never in her life! Even in times when cruelty was being dealt to her, she had never thought to stand up for herself or harm the other person.

When she was living at her father's house, she had always dreamed of being in a better place where she could be free to do whatever she liked without fear of retribution. And on some level she was now living that dream, but she had had to pay a high price for it. She felt as though her soul would go into debt for this dream of hers.

The place was bustling with so much energy. It was usually like this at this time of year, since the students were out on holiday. Diagon Alley was filled with so many patrons that one would have to stand shoulder-to-shoulder near some of the more popular stores. She felt a bit aggravated by the crowdedness, which promptly aggravated the baby, who gave his mother a kick so hard that the person next to her felt it.

"Feisty little devil!" the gentleman said as he gave a slight jiggle of her belly. She smiled back at him as he tipped his hat to her and walked on. She took a moment to stop and take a deep breath. The last thing she needed was another incident like the one she just had at Borgin and Burkes. She looked around and saw a bookstore up ahead, so she decided to duck in there till the crowd settled down.

She was amazed at the wall-to-wall assortment of literature in the store. It had been a while since she'd been in the presence of so many books. Her father hadn't given too much thought to her education, so there weren't that many books or parchments around the house. But whenever she got ahold of one her mind would soak up every letter, word, and phrase of the entire manuscript from front to back. Her thirst for knowledge was so great that she could still recall bits of information scribbled down on a piece of parchment.

"Maybe I can find something in here that will explain what's going on with me," she thought to herself.

Merope looked around the store for a witch's guide to pregnancy or something similar. She hadn't been fortunate to have her mother around while growing up. No female had helped to guide her through her life. Aside from the occasional Ministry employee that would drop by (usually for some crime that her brother had done) it was mainly her, her father, and her brother at the house. No one really came to visit or chat with them. She wasn't even sure if she had any relatives left.

She was looking through one of the stacks of books and came across something very familiar. It was an old copy of i _Advanced Potions_. /i She remembered finding a copy in her father's basement. She had read it from time to time when her father wasn't looking. But once he and her brother had been arrested, she had been able to look into it more deeply, taking in all the information it had offered.

She reminisced for a moment, then turned to a page in the book that had changed her life forever. The page listed the ingredients for a love potion, a love potion that she'd been able to make to win the affections of the handsome man she would call her husband.

She thought back to that first day. She had waited a while for the potion to steep, just like the instructions said. Then it was finally ready. She bottled it up and quickly ran to the stables, since she knew he had been off riding alone earlier that morning. He sauntered in on his dark mustang, Matthias. He looked as though he had just stepped out of a fairytale, with his long black hair and chiseled frame. She was speechless at the sight of him. He didn't notice her too much at first. He thought she was one of the help, since they had so many maids at the big house. She detected that he was thirsty and offered him a drink. He took it without question and drank every drop of the potion. He didn't react strangely or any differently from normal. He kept going about his business of tending to the horse. That made her kind of nervous since she figured she had followed the instructions to the very letter. She was inches away from walking out of the stables when he suddenly grabbed her and begged her to never leave him. The moment confused her at first since she never knew what love or kindness looked like. But when she told him that she wouldn't leave, he was so thrilled that he proceeded to kiss her over and over again. It was the happiest she had ever felt. He swept her off her feet and into a pile of hay where they made love for the rest of that afternoon.

To her dismay, the effects of the potion wore off every morning. So she had to make sure that she had a stockpile of the mixture and keep her arsenal full of the ingredients, so that she could keep making batches over and over. Sometimes she would vary the ingredients to make the potion so strong that he would just consume her with passion. Those were the early days of their relationship, if one could call it a relationship.

When she dosed him with the stronger stuff, he thought that she was the most erotic being to walk the face of the earth. He literally had to have her during every waking moment of the day. If he wasn't eating, sleeping, or using the bathroom, he would try to pin her down with his affections then proceed to make love to her for the rest of evening. And she didn't mind - not one bit! She let him have his way with her anytime he wanted it. His very touch was so exhilarating that she passed out a couple times from it. Who could blame her? She had never known a kind word or a gentle touch while she was living at her father's house. She couldn't even recall if her father had ever said "thank you" for anything she did. So to have this handsome young man lusting after her was enough to fill her deprived senses.

But from time to time it got a bit hard to handle. They had to move to London so they could feel free to be with each other. They had a nice little apartment with a view of the park in the big city. She had never been so far way from home, so she wanted to do a little exploring.

She woke up one morning and prepared his meal, making sure he was properly dosed. After checking on him to see that he was still sleeping, she decided to take a walk around the park. It was truly a lovely morning and she felt so alive and happy. It was the most blissful she had ever felt at the time. Then, just as she got around a bend in the path, she was tackled from behind to the ground. She rolled over to see him smiling down at her … barely dressed.

"My Angel! I was so worried," he said, trying to catch his breath. "You left our home with no word or note. I thought you weren't pleased with me … and had left me." He looked so distraught, yet so very pleased to see her.

"Oh no, Love. I just went for a walk, that's all. I would never leave you." He was so humbled by her words that he tried to make love to her right there on the ground. But the park was starting to fill with people (particularly children). So they had to stop and take their love fest back to their apartment.

They came close a couple of times to getting evicted from their place. Not that they didn't have any money - his family was very well off. He had made sure to get enough to support them both just before they ran off together. It's just that when you spend your days and night in bed being romantic, you forget to tend to other things (business things) that needed tending to. But after the second eviction notice, she realized that she needed to lighten up on the potion's strength.

The next batches she made were not too strong but not too light. It was just right. And like clockwork, she would put it in his morning tea just before sunrise. And then the fun began.

Now those were some very magical times. He was ever so cordial and so very thoughtful to her. She found that he was incredibly charming and quite the romantic. They still made love, but now during more appropriate times of the day (if there ever was an appropriate time for lovemaking). And it was still passionate, so very passionate. But they took the time to do other things together like walking in the park or going for a boat ride. They took in the arts and other types of culture. They had romantic dinners at home or at a nice restaurant. Sometimes when it rained, he would have a picnic set up in their living room for lunch. And during really bad thunderstorms, he would set the stage for a romantic interlude by filling the place with candlelight and music. He sometimes read poetry or sang her a song just before she went to sleep.

He was beautiful. And he made her feel just the same.

One time, she remembered that there was a theater group in town that was doing Shakespeare's play i _Romeo and Juliet_. /i She begged him to take her to see it. He, of course, happily obliged her. So they went shopping to buy her a new dress for an evening at the theater.

They made such an odd-looking couple. People often stopped and stared at the two of them when they stepped out together. She wasn't a real beauty, like some of the girls that he had been with before she'd slipped him the potion. But she wasn't hideous either. She was just strikingly odd-looking. But you couldn't tell him that. Everywhere they went his loving eyes were on her like she was the only person in the world, the only person he cared to see. And if anyone said anything out of line about her, he would promptly address the issue with his fists or a good tongue-lashing.

He was truly a gentleman.

That night, as they were getting ready for the play, she noticed that he hadn't gotten out of bed yet. He was just lying there with his back against the headboard, smiling away as she tried to get dressed. She finally turned around and asked him why he wasn't getting ready.

He looked at her with a sly grin on his face. "Have you ever seen a play done in the nude?"

She looked at him rather quizzically. "What are you getting at?"

"I mean, have you ever seen Shakespeare done in the nude?" he asked again, trying to be more serious this time.

"Of course not, you know that! Why are you being so silly? Darling, we're going to be late!"

Exasperated, she turned around and tried to find an earring to match the necklace he had bought her. But then she felt a warm sensation on her shoulders, and she knew he was standing right behind her. She looked into the large mirror on their dresser to see that he wasn't dressed at all. Usually the sight of him naked would send her reeling. But since she really wanted to see this play, she felt somewhat annoyed that would pick this time to play this love game with her.

But then she noticed that he had this nervous yet tender expression on his face. He turned her around, gently took her hand, looked deeply into her eyes and said:

i "_If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine this is; _

_My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss_ …" /i 

The words seemed to move him so much that tears were trickling down his stern face. She stood there completely enthralled. Keeping his gaze fixed on her, he kissed the open palm of her hand then placed a ring on her finger. The scene was so romantic that you could almost feel the heavens opening up to take notice.

Merope had known he was a Muggle from the first time she had laid eyes on him. However, the way he proposed to her that night, the moment was so powerful it was almost bewitching. She tried to say 'yes' but the words wouldn't come. She was so entranced by his actions that she felt she had been stupefied. But he understood. He swept her up in his arms and proceeded with the story of the two star-crossed lovers in their bed. He didn't make love to her that night, yet he showed her so much affection that she silently cried tears of joy as he continued with his rendition of the story.

The following morning, they got married. She was truly a blushing bride and he was a boastful groom, praising the heavens for his wife.

"God has sent me an Angel, and her name be Merope."

He kissed her so fiercely as the priest pronounced them man and wife.

Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Riddle.

"Yes, those were happier times then," she thought. "So long ago ..."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: _Love's Remorse _

To her surprise, Merope couldn't find anything in regards to her condition. Some of the books that she came across gave reference to proper nutrition and good exercise. Yet there was nothing in regards to her visions or her occasional lapses into anger. She was at a loss.

She looked up to see that a lot of the shop's customers were leaving, so she figured it was time for her to get moving too. As she stepped out into the alleyway she noticed that the energy had died down a bit; it wasn't as congested as it had been before. Yet it was no wonder, considering how late it had gotten. She must have lost track of time, reminiscing about the past.

She decided to make her way to the nearby pub, the Leaky Cauldron, to warm herself before she went - well, she really had no place to go. She couldn't go back to the homeless shelter because of the over-crowdedness and the incident that had left a little girl witness to her attempt at murder. The place that she and Tom had shared didn't feel like home anymore since he had left. She didn't have the strength to live in an empty space full of haunting memories. So she had let the apartment go and had been on the streets ever since.

She was definitely not going back to her father's home. No, she would rather die on these streets than to go back to the beatings, the torture, and the vile acts that she was made to perform by her father and brother. There are some things in life that a father should never ask his daughter to do, nor a brother ask of his sister. Yet Merope's father and brother did not have such decency. They would defile her body whenever the mood took them. So no, she wasn't going back to that. As desperate as her situation was, she was better off where she was. As much as she was penniless and destitute, she could at least say that she was free. There was truly no going back for her.

She decided that she would make her way to the paper mill a few blocks away. They usually had some old scraps of paper they kept in the back of the mill, to be burned the next day. She figured she'd sleep there for the night, then plan her next move in the morning. This had been her day-to-day routine ever since Tom had forsaken her and the baby. She started to get caught up in that painful memory when the baby's movements snapped her out of it.

It was nice and quiet inside the Leaky Cauldron. The roaring fire was very warm and inviting. There weren't that many people around, and those who were there were either deep conversation, deep in thought, or deep in their bowls of food. The barmaid greeted Merope with a gentle smile.

"Why don't you warm yourself up by the fire, dear. A woman in your condition should be off her feet and out of the cold." Merope felt slightly embarrassed and tried to cover herself. But the woman's smile was very comforting, "Oh love, don't worry. There's nothing to be ashamed about. You're not the first stray to come off these streets. And considering these hard times, I'm sure you won't be the last. Just have a seat and be comfortable."

Merope took her place by the fire. She leaned back slightly in the chair and moved her feet close to the hearth's edge to warm her toes. For the first time in a long while, she felt her soul at ease. The barmaid came to her with a very large mug and another warm smile. "Here you go. Its Bertie Bott's Best Hot Chocolate." She laughed a little as she got tongue-tied from saying that. She said it a couple more times just for fun, which gave them both a good laugh. "That should warm up the little one."

Merope reached into her pocket to give her a couple of Galleons, but the lady waved her hand in refusal, "You hold onto that, love. You won't need to worry about that tonight. The New Year is just around the corner. And I heard that it's good luck to have at least one Galleon in your pocket so that you will always have one there whenever you need." Merope smiled in appreciation and took a long sip from her mug. It was truly the best hot chocolate she had ever had.

As she looked deep into the fire she was reminded of the empty home that she and her husband had shared. She remembered back to a night like tonight. She had been sitting by the fire knitting booties for a baby. Earlier that week, Tom had told her how clever it would be if there were more women like her. That way the world would be filled with love and beauty all the time. She told him how wonderful it would be if there were more men like him around. That way the world would be safe and secure, like the way he made her feel. So they agreed to try to extend their love into a family. The thought of hearing the pitter-patter of little feet made Merope decide to go back and strengthen the potion. She thought she would increase her odds of getting pregnant by increasing their lovemaking. So she made the batches just like she had done before, in the early part of their relationship.

It was a rough attempt at first. She was so used to the more romantic side of Tom that she forgot how wild and lustful he could be. The morning, noon, and night sessions were so tiring that she would often wake up with him asleep on top of her. But she didn't mind. The thought of having little Toms or little Meropes at her skirt was enough to keep her spirits going. She willed her body to handle the pressure for the sake of having children.

She would come to regret this later as she was trying to make another batch of potion. Their marathon session from the night before had left her a little hazy. Somehow the batch of potion she made was strengthened … but slightly altered.

That morning Tom ate his breakfast and took his tea as normal. Merope felt so tired from the evening before that she barely had any appetite, so she excused herself from the table.

Tom looked offended. He asked if he had displeased her in some way. She of course said no. He asked if maybe HE could cook her something to eat, since she had barely touched her food. She told him that she wasn't hungry right now. Then he thought that maybe she didn't like his cooking, which caused him to go on about how she had never complained about his cooking before. She told him it wasn't his cooking and not to be silly.

"OH, SO NOW I'M BEING SILLY!" And he promptly flew into a tirade.

Merope did not notice at first that he was going ballistic. Her mind was so groggy that she could barely comprehend what he was babbling on about. But he was talking so fast that any normal person, wizard or not, would have had trouble understanding what he was saying.

He started to talk about how she liked going to a particular restaurant every time they went out for dinner. He recalled how she would gush about how much she loved their poached salmon. He was pacing back and forth, trying hard to think it all through.

"The waiter!" He came to a complete stop and looked at Merope accusingly. "So you love the 'salmon,' do you? Or is it that pompous buffoon that serves it to you, you, you wretched harlot!" To hear Tom yell at her that way, and to see him look at her with such a loathsome glare, was enough to sober her mind and make her slap him clean across the face.

Tom and Merope just stood there. It didn't sink in what she had done until she felt the throbbing pain in her hand. She tried to grab Tom's face but he just backed away from her. He wouldn't even look at her. Then he cried out that he didn't deserve a good woman like her. He walked to an open window in their apartment and tried to jump, but Merope moved quickly and grabbled him before his feet left the floor. She tried to talk him down but he kept going on and on about how he wasn't worthy of her love.

He told her that he understood if she wanted to be with that buffoon waiter so that he could feed her all the poached salmon she wanted. But as soon as he said that, his emotional pendulum swung the other way and he said that if he couldn't love her, then no one else would. He pushed Merope out of the way and started to ransack their bedroom in search for something. He found that something in the form of a wooden box. And in the box was a small pistol.

Merope was so stricken with panic that she couldn't think. Tom took the gun and pointed it straight at her. Tears were streaming down his face as he looked into her eyes.

"I LOVE YOU! I WILL BE THE ONLY ONE TO LOVE YOU!" he told her with a manic look in his eyes.

He pulled the trigger … but nothing happened. Merope almost fainted from the shock. She lunged at him trying to get the gun away but then –

BANG

They both looked stunned. Tom seemed as frightened as Merope. But then he felt a sudden rush of serenity as he fell to her feet. Merope looked down to see her skirt covered in blood – his blood.

Merope looked around frantically for her wand. But he had left their bedroom in such a mess that it was hard to find. She stood in the middle of the room and thought as hard as she could, and suddenly the wand flew out of a corner and into her hand. She quickly worked over his body, trying to recall a spell, potion, or anything to save him. Tom just kept smiling as he tried to wipe the tears from her face.

"Don't cry, my love. I'm still with you. I'll always be with you." But as he spoke his life force was growing fainter with every breath he took.

She started to feel more frenetic. She didn't want to take Tom to a hospital because she felt that Muggle science would only make his situation worse. But she didn't want to take him to St. Mungo's Hospital either, because they would detect the potion she had been using the past few months. She felt conflicted about what she should do. Then she remembered a spell she had used to mend broken things around her father's house.

Concentrating through her tears she waved her wand over Tom's wound, hoping that the spell would have the same effect on him as it did on inanimate objects. Nothing happened at first, which scared the life out of Merope, but then she saw that the bullet was slowly making its way out of Tom's body. Tom's wound was closing up and the bleeding was stopping. Tom took a deep breath and greeted her with a smile. Then he went back to sleep. Merope felt sure that he was stable, so she straightened the room and placed Tom in their bed. She then went to Diagon Alley to get a spell book from the bookstore so that she would never be caught off guard like that again. She stayed by his side the whole night. She memorized all the spells that she could find as she kept her vigil over Tom. He occasionally woke up to smile at her but would then go back to sleep. He was out of touch for a few days.

During that time she came to the realization that she couldn't keep doing this. She couldn't go on drugging him forever. There had to be some point when he would come to love her on his own. Considering the time they had spent together, surely he would see how devoted she had been to him and would want to stay. She thought he would stay, if not for her, then for the baby, since she came to find out later that she was indeed pregnant.

Tom was in and out of consciousness during the course of his recuperation. Merope used her newfound knowledge to heal his body as much as she could. She did not give him any more of her love potion during this time. Tom still acted very courteous and kind to her during his waking moments, which led Merope to believe that her assumption was correct: that he was coming around to love her on his own. But she was wrong.

After a week of resting, Tom had made a complete recovery. He looked around their room, wondering where in the world he was. He felt as though he was coming out of a dream. He showed no regard to Merope at first, thinking (as he had done before) that she was one of the help.

Merope wasted no time in reminding him that she was his wife.

Tom looked amused at first, asking if she was joking. But Merope explained about their love affair, which had taken place over the last year. She even showed him pictures of their wedding day. Tom recalled some of the moments that she was telling him about, but he couldn't understand how he and Merope had ended up together ... and how he had ended up in love with her.

Merope decided to come clean and told him that she was a witch.

Tom shot straight out of their bed and into a corner or their room. He rummaged for his clothes and put on anything just to get dressed. Merope pleaded with him not to leave her and was pawing at his legs as he tried to get his pants on. He just gave her a nervous, disgusted look. He couldn't believe that he had been bewitched into this marriage. He thought of himself as a strong man and an intelligent individual. So to think that he had been so easily hoodwinked infuriated him.

He was almost out the door when Merope threw herself at his feet. She looked into his eyes and told him the blessed news.

"I am the mother of your child! I'm having your baby! Don't leave us now!"

Tom just looked at her in disbelief. He must have thought it was another one of her lies, or a spell like the one she had been using on him all this time. He wanted no more of this charade, no more of these lies, and none of this witchcraft. And he told her just that. He pulled away from her arms and walked out the door.

She never saw him again.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4:_ _Little Miss Seer_

Tears silently fell as Merope recounted her last days with Tom. All those beautiful moments they had spent together were in vain. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted no part of her. So she had not gone after him. She had watched him leave her and her child's life.

"What's wrong?" a little voice beside her asked.

Merope was startled to hear someone else talking to her. She looked down to see a little girl's face staring back. She looked like a sweet child, about three years old with beautiful long wavy hair. The thick-lensed glasses she was wearing magnified her sad eyes. Her expression was just as dreadful as Merope's.

"What's wrong, Miss?" the little girl asked again.

"Oh darling, I'm just having a bad day. Nothing more. Most grown-ups go through these things," Merope said, trying to put up a brave front for the little girl.

"Did someone make fun of you?" she asked.

"Oh no. Not really. But I don't really mind that sort of thing. I know that there are more nice people in the world than there are mean ones. For every mean thing a person says to you, there are usually ten nice things that others will say instead." Merope smiled as she winked to the little girl. This bolstered the child's spirit. She straightened her glasses and gave Merope a great beaming smile.

An older woman came up from behind and took a chair right next to Merope's. She greeted her with the same kind yet concerned expression.

"We seem to be making friends today, don't we?" the lady said to the little girl. "Why don't you check on our soup to see if it's ready?" The little girl danced over to the barmaid to inquire about their order. "My name is Cassandra," the lady said as she and Merope shook hands.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Merope … Merope Riddle." She felt funny saying his last name. But she still felt married to him even though he would not have her.

"My child, what is troubling you?" Cassandra asked.

"Nothing … nothing at all. Just having one of those days," she tried to cover.

"Dear, anyone with an ounce of goodness can tell that you carry a great burden. And I'm not talking about the weight that grows in your womb!" The older lady gave a slight rub to Merope's belly.

Merope didn't know what to say. She wasn't in the habit of talking about her problems, since she really hadn't had anyone to talk to while growing up. She had just kept to herself at her father's house, trying not to rouse the man's anger. She hadn't really started talking until she was with Tom. Now that was gone.

"Is it the child, dear?" the woman asked.

Merope's mind began to click. She began asking Cassandra all sorts of questions, relaying to her some of her experiences. But she made a point of leaving out some details, particularly the incident with Mr. Burke. Cassandra just looked at her and laughed.

"This is perfectly normal for us, dear – 'us' being witches and all," she said matter-of-factly. "Muggle science would say that these mood swings are all a part of a women's hormones. But in our world we know that when you share your life force with someone, like when you're pregnant, you tend to share your feelings and experiences with the little one as it grows inside you. It's all a part of your bonding with the baby."

"But what about having visions?" Merope asked.

"Well dear, you must have Seers in your family then. I know the women in my family tend to see a little of their child's future while they are carrying them in the womb. If Seers run in your family, then this would be perfectly natural for you to experience," Cassandra said with another one of her smiles.

Merope wasn't sure if Seers did run in her family. But that wasn't to say that there weren't any in her bloodline. Cassandra's reasoning seemed plausible enough. But still something else troubled her.

"Cassandra, what if these visions are … dark? What if they foretell some impending danger?"

"My dear, I tell you this: Nothing is for certain. In this day and age, with the changing of the times and of men's hearts, who knows what the future will bring. You as a mother can only stand ready and do your best to raise your child with as much love and understanding as a person can give. Your visions of darkness in your child's future may be because you do not feel ready to be the mother you want to be. But trust this; do not worry so much on what lies ahead when you need to concentrate on what is now. So many people who come to me forget this. They work so hard to prevent the future that they end up fulfilling their own prophecies. Who's to say that anything a Seer sees will actually happen?" Cassandra gave such a broad smile that Merope was comforted. "Dear heart, when you are able to feel the love that this child gives you in return for the love you give it, then those visions will dissipate along with your fears. The future will be what it will be."

Cassandra looked up to see an older gentleman come into the pub. She motioned to him that she would be just a moment and told Merope that she would be right back. The little girl came over to her with some candy that the barmaid had given her.

"My Great-Great-Gran says that I can see things too, even though I don't understand them," the girl said to her brightly. "She says that it runs in our family."

"Well that must be fun!" said Merope.

"It is! I usually see my friend Potty getting into so much trouble!"

"Potty? Is that a spirit of sorts?" Merope asked.

"No, no. Potty is my friend! He's a little boy who lives under the stairs at his wicked uncle's house. But then he always breaks out and goes off on these great adventures to slay these great big beast and DRAGONS! He's really fast on a broomstick and very smart. But in the end, he still always ends up getting into trouble." The girl seemed almost out of breath as she finished relaying her friend's little adventures.

"Well, his stories would make for great reading! Where is he now?"

"Right next to you," the little girl said. Merope looked over but didn't see a little boy standing around, only the much older patrons in the pub. But she didn't let on. She greeted the open air with a smile.

"Pleased to meet you, Potty," Merope said in a very cordial tone.

"You'll have to excuse his appearance. He can never keep his hair right and I believe he got that scrape on his head from a near miss with a dragon," the little girl bragged as she introduced her friend.

"Well I hope the dragon wasn't too much a problem for him."

"No. They never are," the girl said. Merope noticed that she had been eying her stomach during much of their conversation. She looked up at Merope and asked, "How many pumpkin seeds did you eat?"

Merope was somewhat confused. "I'm not too sure. Why?"

"My friend, Ellen, told me that when you don't properly chew your pumpkin seed it will grow inside your belly until it is ripe and ready to be picked," the little girl said.

"Well, I don't believe there's a pumpkin growing inside my belly. There is a baby in there though," Merope said.

The little girl looked astounded, "Did you eat the baby?"

"Oh no, child! I'm … uh …" Merope could tell that the child was hanging onto her every word. As much as the girl was incorrect, she didn't feel it was her place to explain such things to her. Heaven knew she wouldn't have wanted some stranger explaining such intimate details to her child, no matter how well mannered that person was. Merope looked quite bashful as she tried to back out of the conversation. This made the little girl laugh and try even harder to pry the truth out of her. Then she hugged Merope. Merope could feel the little girl laughing as she gave her a tight squeeze. She wondered if there would be fun moments like this when she had her baby.

She looked over to Cassandra, who looked as if she was in a debate with the gentleman that arrived earlier. The man seemed to be pleading with her while holding a vial of something gold-colored in his hand. She wondered what the fuss could be about. Then she heard the strange hissing noises again. This alarmed Merope greatly, so she started taking deep breaths again to try to keep herself calm. This usually stopped the noise whenever she felt upset. But then she realized she had already been calm before. So where was the noise coming from? The hissing noise started to take shape. She could make out some of the words but she had trouble hearing the rest. It sound was very quiet. Merope slowly looked around the room, expecting to see the familiar face of her father or brother, but to her surprise it was neither.

Her gaze stopped at the little girl, who had a tight grip on her belly.

The girl looked as if she was in a trance. She was sitting perfectly still and muttering in Parseltongue, something Merope was very familiar with. Merope looked in Cassandra's direction, trying to get her attention, but no one, not even the girl's great-great-grandmother, noticed that there was any trouble. At first she thought she should shake the girl, but then she realized that it might do more harm than good to bring her out of this state. She felt the girl's grip getting tighter on her stomach. She placed her hands on top of the girl's hands in an effort to break free.

Suddenly the hissing stopped. She looked around to see that the pub was empty and she and the little girl were the only two people by the fire. The girl's eyes were all white, and her gaze focused all of Merope's attention to her.

i center "_On the eve of the new year, the Serpent's Heir will be born. _

_This bastion of evil will bring terror into our world, _

_a terror so deep that few will speak of his horrors … or his name." /i /center _

CRACK

A customer bumped into a nearby table. The sound of a glass falling to the ground and shattering was enough to break Merope free from the little girl's grip. The child snapped back to her normal state and looked up at Merope, smiling as if nothing had happened. Merope gave her a warm smile even though her insides felt as though the bottom had come out from her.

Cassandra made her way back to the two, looking exhausted from her conversation with the gentleman. "Some people will never listen! But I know you don't have that problem, dear." She gave Merope a pat on the knee as she tried to gather her coat. Merope just sat there quietly, trying to shake off the eeriness of what the girl had said. She remembered what Cassandra had told her a few minutes ago, but the little girl's words were standing out more and more.

"Here, take this." Cassandra gave Merope the vial of gold-like liquid that the gentleman had given her earlier. "My friend, Felix, claims that it can bring about good luck. He wanted me to try it but I told him that I don't believe in such things. Luck is more of a Muggle philosophy for those who don't feel in control of their lives. It would be wasted on me, but it's still pretty to look at."

Merope could hear her words, but nothing was registering. Her mind was still stuck on what the little girl had said. She gave a smile to Cassandra as she took the vial from her hands.

"Well dear, if anyone is in need of 'luck,' I can't think of a better person. But mark my words - you won't be needing that! Things will come around and you will live on to do great and wondrous things - you and the baby. Furthermore, I … will …. where is that girl?" Cassandra looked around to see that her great-great-grandchild was with the barmaid, trying to get more candy.

"Miss Sybill Trelawney!! Your mother will have my hide if you keep eating any more sweets!!" Cassandra gave an exhausted sigh that slowly crept into laughter. "The best thing about grandchildren, especially great-great-grandchildren, is that you can always leave them with their parents just before they get too out of hand. I don't think her mother would mind if I dropped her off just an hour early. The girl must be tired after running around at Bertie Bott's all day. I should have enough time to get her home before all that sugar begins to process."

Cassandra gave Merope a warm hug, followed by Miss Sybill, who gave her a kiss on the cheek. They bid each other farewell and Cassandra and Sybill walked out of the pub and into the night.

Merope had gathered so much reassurance from the two of them that she'd almost forgotten the little incident that had occurred earlier – but not completely. She had started to gather herself together when the barmaid, once again, came greeting her with a smile.

"I have your room ready," she said.

"My room?" Merope asked. She did not recall asking for boarding, since she didn't have much money.

"Yes, your room. What? Did you think you were going to be sleeping in the back of the paper mill tonight?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: _Father and Son_

Merope felt as though she were floating. She looked around to see that she was standing in the middle of a lush green valley. The sky was so blue that there wasn't a cloud above her head. To one side, she could see a small hill, on top of which stood a beautiful grand house. To her other side she could see some horses playing about. She instantly recognized the dark mustang that Tom had ridden in on that fateful morning when she'd slipped him the potion. The scenery was very picturesque.

"I can't be here," she thought as she stood in the middle of the field. She then felt a presence right beside her. She turned around to see a lovely young man with jet-black hair standing by her side. He looked exactly like her love, but just a bit younger.

"Tom? Can it be?"

He did not answer or acknowledge her presence. He just stood there with a determined look on his face as he stared at the house on the hill. Merope reached out to touch his face, but his image just slipped through her fingers.

"I must be dreaming, then," she said, with a bit of disappointment. The young man moved from her and started to make his way to the house. Merope followed closely behind him.

They made their way to the front entrance, where the boy proceeded to knock on the door. The maid who answered greeted the young man with a smile. But as she looked at him more fully an awed expression arose on her face.

"I've come to see Tom Riddle … Senior," he said in a very controlled tone.

"Yes, dear. Right this way," she said. The maid couldn't keep her eyes off him as she led the way to the drawing room. If she could have said something, she would have mentioned his remarkable resemblance to the man he was about to meet. Being a servant, she must have known that it wasn't her place to make such comments no matter how obvious it was. But Merope could see that it was on the tip of her tongue.

There was much discussion going on as they entered. There were two men, one older than the other, and an old woman sitting on the couch. The topic of the hour was horses. But all that ceased when the young man appeared.

"You have a visitor, sir," the maid said, then slowly backed out of the room, leaving the four there.

There he was, Thomas Riddle, the man who had so proudly called her his wife. He was much older now, but the years had certainly been kind to him. He was still very attractive. Tears welled in Merope's eyes as she looked at her husband's face. She tried to touch him, too, but she felt the same frustration as his image passed between her fingers. She looked to the boy and wondered if he could be her son. Had the baby she was carrying now grown up to be the young man she saw before her? She stood next to him as he looked to the people across the room.

The mood had significantly changed upon his arrival. There was tension all around the room. Merope could feel it between her husband and the older couple. She also recognized the surge of anger that was emanating from the young man. However, he didn't let his emotions come to the surface. He just stood there taking it all in. Her husband and the older man looked at each other. The older man had a very stern expression on his face when he looked at his son.

"Thomas Riddle, what is the meaning of this?" the older man finally said. Merope noticed that her husband kept a stiff look on his face, but his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. It was a sight she was not use to seeing from him.

The uncomfortable silence grew more with the escalating tension.

"Young man, what is your name?" said the older woman from the couch.

"Thomas Riddle, ma'am. Thomas Marvolo Riddle," the young man said with the same controlled tone. Merope stood there feeling bowled over. She couldn't believe her eyes. The young man was her son!

"Marvolo?" the woman said in a pious tone. "Is your … mother … with you, young man?"

"No, she isn't. I've been told that my mother is dead. I have been living in an orphanage in London," he said.

Merope couldn't believe her ears, "Dead?" Merope felt herself panic but she tried to keep in mind that this was all a dream. "I'm dreaming. This isn't real," she kept repeating to herself.

"Heavens! An orphanage!" the woman yelled out. Her face suddenly went pale and she started to hyperventilate. The older gentlemen tried to fan her with the hat he was holding. His son and grandson just stood there eyeing each other as the commotion ensued. Once the older man got the woman under control, he turned to his son and straightened his face.

"You said that it was finished! When you came home after your romp with THAT WOMAN you said that it was DONE! You said that you would have nothing to do with her and that she was out of our lives for good! YOU SAID IT WAS OVER, COMPLETE, AND DONE WITH! AND NOW THIS SCANDAL ENTERS OUR HOME!" The man turned beet red as he finished his statement.

He continued, "It was BAD ENOUGH you ran off with that CREATURE on the eve of your wedding to Cecilia. THE PEOPLE IN THE VILLIAGE THOUGHT YOU HAD GONE MAD TO CHOOSE THAT WOMAN OVER HER! They thought madness ran in our family and that we were going to have a house full of IDIOTS or CIRCUS FREAKS!" The man was now turning a dark shade of magenta as he came to the end of his sentence. He was so livid that he looked like he would suffer a stroke if he continued.

His son stood there with the same stiff expression on his face, although it was changing to a deeper shade of red just like his father's. It was a side of him that Merope found very hard to take. But as she looked at her son, she noticed that he was still standing there, showing no emotion as he watched his father being shouted at.

"Well, Darling, the boy doesn't look like that wretched beast of a mother," the older woman said in an arrogant tone. That hit a nerve with Merope. She knew she wasn't pretty, but to be called beastly was a bit much.

"THE POINT IS that this family barely survived the humility and the shame of your son's poor choices! NOW, just when we are beginning to wipe the mud from our name, UP COMES HIS BASTARD CHILD!"

"Well again, Darling, they were married. So technically the boy is not a bastard," the older woman spoke again.

"WOMAN, YOU ARE NOT HELPING!" The old man's veins bulged from his collar as he turned his attention to his wife.

The three of them fell into a huge row. Merope could scarcely tell what they were saying, since they were shouting so loudly at each other. But she knew it had to do with the boy and his presence there. She could see that her husband was doing a poor job of defending himself. Despite how he had abandoned her, she couldn't help but feel pity for him in this situation.

Merope looked at her son. She noticed that he was standing there, still showing no signs of emotion. However, she could feel the deep-rooted anger brewing within him as he watched his father and grandparents argue.

"BUT SHE'S A WITCH!" Tom the Second spoke up. "I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING WITH HER! SHE HAD ME AS HER CAPTIVE UNDER HER SPELL. I DIDN'T KNOW –"

"Even if that were true, how STUPID do you think you'd look to fall for something like that? My son, the heir to my legacy, would so easily succumb to the spells of a WITCH! Is that what you'd have this town think? Why, you would look as crazy as that oaf brother of hers who lives across the valley! That lunatic goes around saying that his family is of 'pure blood' and we are not even fit to walk this earth." The man took a moment to help himself to some whiskey. "Pure blood! The nerve of him! And you can clearly see the inches of filth that have accumulated on him! And then he goes around calling us Mubbles or Bubbles –"

"Muggles," Tom Marvolo Riddle said calmly.

Silence again filled the room as the hostilities started to reach their breaking point. Everyone finally turned their attention to the topic of their conversation.

"Are you sassing me, boy?" the old man asked with this menacing look on his face.

"No, Sir," Tom said in a very dry tone. "The correct way to pronounce it is Muggle."

"Muggle?" the old man said with a slight laugh. "And what would you know about that, boy?"

"Well, seeing that your son slept with my mother, and you so fondly call her a witch, then that would make me the son of a witch. Although I've heard the term used a bit differently and quite loosely among others. But I suppose we won't go there since we are having a polite conversation." He looked into his grandfather's eyes without a hint of fear as he spoke. This infuriated the old man even more. He threw his glass of whiskey to the floor and walked straight over to his grandson. He looked ready to choke the life out of the young man. Merope tried to step in his way but saw how futile her efforts were, since this was just a dream. But that's when everything went from bad to worse … much worse.

The old man took a few more steps … then stopped.

Everything went still until Tom Junior stepped out of the man's path. The old man remained frozen in his position. Merope could see a wand in the boy's hand as he walked away from his grandfather. She realized that he must have used a spell to Petrify him. She was amazed that he could be so young and able to perform a spell without saying a word. She felt very proud but then a little disturbed as she looked at the boy's wand. It looked like the same wand her brother had used whenever he felt like torturing her.

"It can't be!" she said to herself as she looked at the long object in his hands. "I must be dreaming! He couldn't have gotten hold of that!" She tried to wake up but couldn't. Her mind was trapped as she was made to watch these unfolding events.

"BY JOVE! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" cried out the woman.

"Reconciling myself of my past," said Tom Junior as he waved his wand to silence his grandmother. The woman tried to protest but found that she was speechless. She glanced to her son with a frightened look on her face; he looked back at her, also alarmed. Tom Junior just stood there between his father and grandmother, looking from one to the other.

"You know, for quite some time I've grown up thinking that my father was someone great and powerful. I thought my name, however ordinary it is, might be something meaningful since I was named after him. So after searching in vain I came up with nothing extraordinary about Mr. Thomas Riddle the Second. And as I'm standing here now, I can clearly see how truly powerful my father isn't." Tom Junior still remained calm as he walked over to the broken glass that his grandfather had smashed to the floor. He waved the wand over the mess, causing the pieces to rematerialize back to normal. He then tapped the glass so that he could take a sip of water. With his thirst quenched, he continued with his story.

"So I set out to find some information about my mother, to see how great her lineage was. And I was right. Her descendents were some of the most powerful people (witches and wizards) that history has ever seen. But alas, that luster has worn over the years, leaving that oaf across the valley as the last of my ties to that great family."

"So now I've resolved myself to the fact that for me to make my mark in this world, I must set my own path to greatness. But I see that I cannot do that being connected to such weakness." Tom Junior raised his wand again and pointed it at the old man. A green flash of light jetted from the wand to strike a mighty blow to his old body.

His grandfather hit the floor dead.

The old woman's mouth gaped wide open. If she had been making noise, she would have given a high-pitched scream. But under the circumstances, all she could do was sit there with tears streaming down her face as she silently shouted for her husband.

Merope stood there mortified. She again tried desperately to wake but her mind and body would not do what she commanded. She knew she wasn't just dreaming. As much as this was a nightmare, she knew it was something more than a mere set of coincidences. She saw her son advance on his grandmother. Merope tried to grab him, but again she met with the same results. She looked to her husband, trying to yell at him to do something. But he could not hear her. All he could do was stand there and cower in fear.

"I've heard stories of grandmothers showering their grandchildren with love and affection. But from the moment I darkened your doorway you have showed me nothing but arrogance and contempt," Tom Junior said. When he raised his wand this time, it did not kill the woman instantly as it had her husband. But she would wish it had.

Merope was familiar with the pain that the old woman was now feeling. Her brother had performed the same spell plenty of times to punish her or just to get a good laugh. Yet she could see that the boy was more precise as he performed the Cruciatus. He had conviction in his anger, which made the recipient of the curse succumb to much more agonizing pain. Merope could tell that Mrs. Riddle was screaming at the top of her lungs despite no sound passing from her. Her eyes were bulging from her head and she was running out of breath. Tom Senior remained paralyzed in fear as he watched his mother go through the agony. Finally the young man released the curse over his grandmother so that she could breathe.

He focused his sights on his father.

Merope tried again to move in the boy's path, but he just went right through her. She crumbled into a fit of tears as the boy approached the man. Tom Senior tried to run, but the boy's power was so great that he stopped him right in his tracks. Then he levitated his body back into place.

"There's no running away from me this time, Father," the boy said, still as calm as ever.

"My boy – MY SON, I had no idea! Your mother said she was A WITCH! She said that she used a spell … a- a- a POTION ... YES! She said that she had used a love potion to seduce me all the time we were together! I thought she was lying when she told me -" With a wave of Tom Junior's wand, Tom Senior had no voice. Tom Junior just stared at his father, calculating his next move.

"Part of me would have preferred that you say she was just some whore and you were a John fulfilling a business transaction of sorts, like whores and Johns do. That would be almost acceptable since we, as men, have ugly needs. Sometimes ugly people satisfy those ugly needs. But to bring love into this in the form of a potion is laughable and almost ironic. Love is supposed to be something strong, binding, and never-ending. Loves does not leave and isn't suppose to die. When the woman told you that she was having your child, you did not feel honor-bound to her or feel any obligation to the child she was carrying. So why bring love into this at all?"

With a twist of his hand his father was shaking in agony.

"The point of I'm trying to make is this: Even if she were lying, why didn't you have the decency to go back and check to see if she was telling the truth? After all, you had been sleeping with her. You and Mother were married. The marriage was consummated. Common sense says that the odds were in favor of her being with child."

Another twist of the boy's hand, and his father surrendered to more anguish.

Merope tried even harder to wake up, but she still couldn't. Feeling loss and nearing a state of hysteria, she fell to her knees pleading with her son's image, "Please …please don't! HAVE MERCY ON HIM … please! HAVE MERCY! He's innocent! HE'S INNOCENT! He did not know! He wasn't in control! It was my fault, MY FAULT! PLEASE DON'T! I LOVE HIM! I LOVE HIM! PLEASE!" Merope begged her child to spare his father, but he wouldn't listen. He couldn't hear her.

"I think that any man worth his soul … even an inch of his soul … would never knowingly leave his child behind, regardless of how he felt about the mother. Any man of good standing would have the fortitude to raise his child in spite of the circumstances of how that child got here. But I can see that this is not the case with you. And right now, your soul is worthless to me." Tom Junior raised his wand, ready to strike, but he stopped when he saw that his father was trying to say something.

"But I didn't know," he said.

"Well, now you do," said his son.

The familiar green light appeared. With one final wave of the wand, he killed his father and grandmother instantly.

It was done. He had killed them all.

The last of the Riddles were left in that room … and they were all dead.

Except for the one who walked out the door without turning back.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: _A Tale of Opposites_

Merope sat up in her bed screaming. Her eyes were swollen from the hysterical crying she had been doing in her dream. Her body, drenched in sweat, was shaking badly. She opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by several women in her room. The barmaid and two others were sitting by her bed with anxious looks on their faces.

"Merlin's beard, she's awake!" yelled the barmaid. They all gathered closely around Merope, who cried a little more to vent her sadness. She felt a wave of relief as she saw her familiar surroundings. "Gracious, child! You had us worried!"

"I'm sorry, I was just having a bad dream! I did not mean to disturb anyone," Merope said. She was embarrassed that she had caused so much commotion.

"A bad dream?" the barmaid asked. She looked even more worried as she looked at Merope.

"Yes, a dream. Well, more like a nightmare! I'm sorry. The hot chocolate I had before I went to bed must have roused the little one a bit much." The baby was still kicking her as she was tried to calm down.

The ladies in the room passed each other some more concerned glances. The barmaid looked back at Merope and took a deep breath as if trying to keep herself calm. "Dear, was there anyone in the room with you?"

Merope looked confused. She looked at the other women who were staring at her with the same expression "What? What do you mean?"

"Did anything happen to you while you were sleeping? Do you remember if someone came to visit you? Anyone out of the ordinary?" the barmaid asked calmly.

"No. Not that I … no. No one. Not that I can recall. I remember finishing my cocoa after Cassandra and little Sybill left last night. Then you came to me to tell me that my room was ready. I went to bed and … just had this bad dream that I couldn't wake up from! Now I'm awake and here you all are." Merope could tell that nothing she said provided any comfort to the women. "What's wrong? I'm sorry to cause so much trouble!"

"No trouble, dear. We've just been worried, that's all," one of the ladies said.

"The dream was just so horrible. I did not mean to disturb anyone. I'm terribly sorry to have woken you all," Merope said, feeling ever so embarrassed.

"Actually, luv, we've been awake all this time … waiting for you," the barmaid said.

Merope felt even more confused, "All this time? Waiting? Did I miss something?"

"Well, you've missed a few days, dear," the other lady said. "But I suspect in your state, you must have not been resting properly. This must be the first comfortable bed you've had in a while. 'Cause you haven't woken up since we last saw you."

Merope was stunned. "Days?"

The barmaid looked to the other ladies and motioned for them to leave the room. As soon as they were gone she sat on the edge of the bed with Merope to stroke her hand. "The night you went to bed, after your talk with Ms. Cassandra, one of the guests here heard some commotion going on in your room."

"It must have been me dreaming," Merope said.

"Well if it were just you dreaming, then we wouldn't have had much to worry about. But the guest heard you screaming out. So we had some cause for worry. And rightly so! When we came into your room, I found you in your bed soaking wet. And your room was in a complete shambles. The place looked as though you'd been fighting off werewolves, Dementors, or something all by yourself! We thought maybe you'd been attacked. So we've been waiting here ever since."

Merope sat there feeling very troubled. Her mind flew back to the incident with Mr. Burke in his shop when she had pawned her locket. Now this had happened. The occurrences just keep getting stronger. But this time someone could have gotten hurt. She looked around the room and saw no signs of damage, but she could tell from the barmaid's expression that something horrible had taken place. Merope caught a glimpse of the window and saw the snow coming down, "What day is this?"

"It's the day before New Year's Eve." The barmaid could see that this information overwhelmed Merope. She sat more closely to her to give her comfort. "Come now, dear. Don't get upset! We were just concerned, that's all. We checked around the pub and saw no one crazy lurking about. And thankfully there was no harm done to you or the baby. You must have been tired that's all! We couldn't get you to the hospital 'cause of the bad weather. It was too risky to Apparate or use the Floo Network to transport you because of the baby. And flying by broomstick was definitely out of the question. So we just kept an extra lookout just in case. Luckily there was a midwife who was snowed in with us. She's been standing by just in case we run into any trouble."

Merope felt incredible grateful, but withdrawn at the same time. Between losing Tom's love, having this baby alone, and these terrible disturbances around her, she didn't know how much more she could handle. The dream had almost taken her to the breaking point. And now with one day before New Year's Eve, little Sybill's words kept creeping into her mind:

center i "On the eve of the New Year, the Serpent's Heir will be born …." /center /i 

She looked to the barmaid and gave her a vacant smile. She didn't have the strength to put up a brave front for her. The lady understood and returned the same reassuring smile she'd always given Merope. She tried to encourage Merope to get some rest before she left her to herself. But Merope dared not go back asleep. Perhaps it was because she had been asleep for so long, but Merope did not feel like resting at all. And she wasn't up for company either. She got up from her bed and sat in the chair next to the window. She saw how bad it was outside. The snow was really coming down and was showing no signs of letting up. She couldn't even see the streets anymore since it was all blanketed in snow.

"What am I to do?" Merope said. It wasn't the inclement weather that was getting her down. It was all these disturbances occurring around her. She knew they were coming from the baby, but she couldn't understand how. How was it that a child not even born yet could exert so much control over his surroundings? She knew it wasn't natural. And then there was the nightmare! She felt there was something more to it - that it couldn't simply be dismissed as a mere dream.

"Trying to sort it all out, dear?" said a kind voice. She looked up to see Cassandra standing by the fireplace in her room. "I hope you don't mind me popping in. I heard you might have been in trouble, so I wanted to come and see you as soon as I could." The old woman sat in the chair right next to Merope. She gave her that same comforting smile that Merope was used to seeing, except this time there was a hint of sadness behind her grin.

"What did you say before?" Merope asked.

"Oh … you looked as though you were sorting your thoughts, child. I thought that I was disturbing you."

"No. I'm fine. I just had a bad dream. Rather a nightmare … or maybe beyond a nightmare. It seems like a lot of things have been happening around me. And it feels like they're coming from the baby."

Merope relayed some of her history as well as her past and present experiences to Cassandra, including the occurrence that had happened with Mr. Burke. She then went on to relay the dream she had had of her husband and son. Telling the story sent chills down Merope's spine as she recalled some of the more vivid moments of the dream. She looked to Cassandra, hoping to hear the same comforting response that she had given before in the pub, but none came - at least not what she expected.

"Cassandra, maybe … if you could?" Merope tried to ask.

"Dear heart, I've learn that most people tend not to listen no matter what I say or see."

"But you know I will! You said it yourself," Merope pleaded with the old seer. She took one of Cassandra's hands and placed it on her belly. Cassandra gave a reluctant sigh, then closed her eyes so that she could concentrate.

Nothing happened at first, but then a strong gust of wind entered the room. The fire blew out in the fireplace as the wind began to pick up force. Merope looked terrified but saw that Cassandra was calm, although looking rather pale and sweaty. Her eyes were still closed as she was concentrating on the moment.

Then it stopped.

Cassandra removed her hands from Merope, then waved her wand to the fireplace to illuminate the room again. Her natural color returned to her as she sat back in her chair, stroking her forehead with her fingers. Her smile was looking somewhat grim, but she gave a smile nonetheless. Merope poured her a glass of water as the old woman was trying to gather her thoughts.

"You see it, don't you? You see the danger ahead? It's more than just a lack of maternal instincts! There's real trouble there, isn't there?" Merope was sitting on the edge of her seat waiting for her to respond.

"Dear, I …" Again, another sigh from the seer as she tried to find the right words to say. "I don't want to alarm you any more than you already are. But yes, I see it too."

Merope wanted to cry, but she had been doing that so much that she had no more tears to shed, "What am I supposed to do? Am I to give birth to … to a monster?"

Cassandra took Merope's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Yes, dear. You have this child like any good mother would do."

Merope was flabbergasted, "What about the trouble ahead or the danger he will cause?"

"Merope, life itself is full of opposites: day and night, love and hate, life and death. One cannot be without the other. And how could they? How else would you know what one was unless you had experienced its opposite? How would you recognize the light unless you were sitting in darkness? How do you experience hate or disappointment in someone unless you have loved them or cared for them? How does life renew itself without some form of death? As we look to the snow on the ground and these barren trees, we know that there are flowers, grass, and leaves waiting to come forth in the spring. Sometimes these cycles take time. But you will see that where there is one … the other does follow."

"But this child?" Merope pleaded.

Cassandra looked deep into Merope's eyes, "Where there is evil, there is always good waiting to fight. This is life's great balance that we all must weigh in on. As much as you carry this great burden, there also lies within you hope, dear. Things are not always what they seem. There will be trouble ahead and your child will have a great part in that indeed. But you still bear hope within you.

"Despite being descended from the Serpent's blood and having such a poor upbringing, you still emerged a decent and kind person with great strength and inner beauty. No weak person could have survived the torment you have been put through, for as long as you have.

"And although you were a little misguided in your efforts with your husband, you owned up to your faults and showed great remorse for your actions. It takes courage and great moral character to admit when you're wrong. And it took a lot of love on your part to set him free. A person of lesser being would still be giving Tom that potion. But in your heart, whether you realize it or not, you were doing the right thing by confessing the truth to him and letting him leave, despite the fact that he was walking away from his child. The truth may have come a little late, but some things do take time. That is true love. Maybe not a love for him, but at least a love for yourself, 'cause it does no good for someone to hold onto secrets or to rest on a guilty conscience."

Cassandra stood up to give Merope a warmhearted hug. Merope tried to hold onto her for a moment longer, trying to gather the same solace she'd been able to get before. But she knew it was time for the older witch to leave. Cassandra walked over to the fire to throw some powder within it.

"No matter what follows next or what you may see, you must always hold on to the good within you, Merope. For wherever there is goodness, there is always hope. One must never give up on hope." Cassandra stepped into the fire and vanished.

The last thing Merope saw was Cassandra's smile before she disappeared into the flames.

However sad Cassandra had looked, she had managed a smile before leaving Merope.

Another one of life's opposites.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: _Into the Chamber_

The place was damp and dark. The air was very cold and reeked of death. The dirt floor had remnants of decay from old carcasses lying about. The place was simply horrific. But Tom Riddle did not care about the atmosphere. He had more pressing matters to attend to as he walked into the chamber.

"I see you have returned," came a voice.

"Yes," said Tom.

"Some time has passed since our last meeting. You find it wise to come here now?"

"There is something that I wanted to ask you. Something that I need to know," said Tom.

"Interesting. How was your summer?"

"I did as you instructed. After finding my mother's family I went to pay them a visit," said Tom.

"Was it what you expected?

"No … not at all. Her brother, my uncle, was the last of the family," he said with a hint of disgust.

"I see," the voice said with a sense of understanding. "Curious? I sense something else."

"He told me about my father. My uncle told me that he was still alive and was living close to where their house stood. I was able to pay him a visit too."

"And?" the voice said again with bated breath.

"I killed them. I killed them all. My father, grandfather, and grandmother are dead, killed by my hands."

There was a long moment of silence before the chamber filled with laughter.

"I wondered, with your Muggle heritage, whether you had it in you to perform the deed," the voice said. A swirl of smoke appeared and transformed into the image of his master, Salazar Slytherin.

"I spoke to Professor Slughorn concerning Horcruxes. He seemed unwilling … rather scared, to go on about the subject."

"I suspected he would be. Professor Slughorn is an adept Potions teacher, but he lacks a certain quality to TEACH the Dark Arts. He would be more likely to tell you how to run from them, but he has no clue as to how to wield their strength. "

"Then, Master, as great as you are then maybe you could -" Salazar waved his hand to silence the boy.

"I am but a shadow of the man that stood here a thousand years ago. As much as I know the secret of how to perform the spell, it would not be wise for me to teach it to you. As intelligent as you are, if there was the slightest misstep or mispronunciation, you'd run the risk of losing your powers and your soul for all eternity. That is too great a risk.

"You are already on your way to mastering the skill of creating a Horcrux. The killing of your Muggle family is the first step in this process. But to go further you must have proper training. My heir must be appropriately educated in the finer points of the Dark Arts. Hogwarts will only take you so far. It is time that you go further."

"And where can I find a teacher as great as you, Master?" asked his young pupil.

"I have a friend who is in need of assistance. I promised him before I passed that I will send my apprentice to him to help him finish what he and I started years ago. After you leave this school you must make preparations for your next level of instruction. Go about your life as normal but do not make any ties here. When the timing is right you will go east. Gigori will be waiting to guide you as he did me."

"Gigoir?"

"Yes, Gigori. Although history refers to him as Rasputin," said Slytherin.

"I don't understand. Word has it that Rasputin was murdered years ago. If I may ask, sir, if you can't teach me then how can he?" Tom said.

"If you're memory serves you correctly then you should know how hard it was to kill him. Do you know why?" his master asked. Tom was stumped.

"When Gigori received his invitation to dinner, he and I knew it was a trap. Gigori had been very vocal about his opposition with the royal family and with Russian politics. So we knew it was only a matter of time before certain people started to get fed up with his behavior. Gigori was fearless and laughed at the invite. He wanted to go himself but I devised a better plan instead."

"You created a Horcrux," Tom said in amazement.

"Yes. The poor maid had to suffer for it, but it was for a good cause. Once the Horcrux was made we found a way to form it into his clone then send the decoy off to the dinner party. Gigori and I waited behind for the results. Once word reached us of Gigor's brutal 'death', we decided to head to the forest of Albania to plot the downfall of the Romanoff clan."

"But the Romanoff's were executed in 1918, years before I was born. How much more help can I be to him now?" Tom asked.

"There are still a few loose ends to finish. Gigori's vengeance is just as vast as his knowledge. Word has it that someone in the Imperial Family might have survived the firing squad. So I'm sending you to meet with him to learn all that he knows and to help him as needed. Once you've obtained his knowledge, he will direct you in your next step of your education."

"As you wish, Master," Tom said.

"I've waited many years for my successor to appear. And now that you have, I've passed down what is needed. My time has come. You have my knowledge. My blood runs in your veins. My spirit in this place has served its purpose. Now it is time for you to learn how your spirit will serve yours." Salazar's image vanished.

"Master, can a wizard make more than one Horcrux?" Tom asked

"And you ask this because?"

"Seven is a powerful number. Why just make one?" Tom replied.

The chamber was again silent. It was so quiet that Tom wondered if maybe Salazar was ignoring him for asking a stupid question. But then his emerald-green eyes peered through the darkness of the chamber. "It is possible, yes. But what you are seeking to do is ambitious at best … and very dangerous. It is bad enough that the soul must be ripped apart to perform the ritual. But to take the soul and tear it into many pieces would leave you less than a man than it does a soul. So be wise about what you seek. I did not become the greatest wizard of my time by making foolhardy decisions. If you are going to make a name for yourself in our world, make sure you do the same. And take care of what you create. Make sure your items are inconspicuous and well guarded. For if your enemies find out what you have done, it will leave you in a most vulnerable position."

The eyes vanished along with his master's presence. It had been settled. Tom felt slightly disappointed that he could not be taught the spell today, but he realized Salazar's point. If he were able to learn it and something went wrong while he was performing it, a mere essence of someone would not able to save him. Salazar was right to point him in the direction needed so that he could achieve the greatness he so desperately desired.

And meeting with Rasputin should be interesting to say the least.

He was left with a lot to think about. His options for his Horcruxes were at the forefront of his mind. He had the ring that he had taken from his uncle, and there was the medal the school had given him for turning over Hagrid. Tom couldn't help but smile to himself as he thought of the gentle giant. The school was still clueless about his part in the trouble, and about the location of this room. And despite having had to put a halt to his actions because of the school being threatened with closure for the girl's death, his plan had still been executed flawlessly. Tom took a moment to bask in his triumph, and then got back to the matter of his Horcruxes.

There was something else he had, something that he had gotten from the orphanage that he had kept with him all this time. It wasn't as grand as the ring or the medal. But it was inconspicuous enough that no one would ever suspect it to be used to hold a fragment of his soul. Tom paused for a moment to consider this, but then decided to put his thoughts away for later. He still had plenty of time to finalize things before he left Hogwarts. Plus he now had to make arrangements to start his travels abroad. Besides, between the time he left school until he started his travels, there would be no telling what he could find that he could use to hold his soul. Tom turned to make his way out of the chamber.

"I see you are wearing my ring," said his master's voice.

"Yes, I got it from my uncle."

"It would make a fine vessel for your achievement."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: _A Hasty Decision_

Merope bolted upright in her chair. She had another dream, but this time it wasn't as bad as before. Yet it was still eerie since it was about her son and this time … i Salazar Slytherin! /i As odd as it was, Merope dismissed it from her mind. It has been ages since he had walked these lands. There was no way that meeting could ever take place.

Merope struggled with Cassandra's words as she sought to stay awake during the evening. She was still scared to go to sleep after seeing Tom's death in her dream. Every now and then she would nod off, and when she did, more visions of danger would appear. If she could rest, she doubted it would be any more peaceful than what she was going through now. The baby was more active then ever. She knew she it was only a matter of time before she went into labor.

"Good morning and an early Happy New Year to you, dear!" said the barmaid as she brought up breakfast.

Time had passed and it was now the morning of New Year's Eve. The day had started off dreadfully, since the weather had not subsided. The snow was still coming down and the sun was nowhere to be seen. It looked like night outside during the early hours of the morning.

Merope gave the barmaid an appreciative smile as she looked at her meal. But inside she was tired and still withdrawn as the hours passed one after the other. The barmaid left Merope to herself again, after telling her to try and get some rest. She gave Merope the same reassuring smile that she had greeted her with days ago. Merope truly felt grateful to have run into such good people in her time of need. It was a goodness that she hadn't experienced before while growing up at home. And even though she wasn't quite used to it, Merope felt a measure of comfort and hope as she thought back on the kindness that had been shown to her.

Merope thought of her newfound friends as she ate her meal. She couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility for them, for she knew that her child was going to bring much havoc into this world. She could tell that it was more than just her husband's family that would feel his wrath and devastation. Merope felt other lives hanging in the balance as the birth of this child drew near.

"But what can I do?" she asked herself.

She would periodically look to the flames in the fireplace, hoping to see the same smile that had left her yesterday. Cassandra had not left her with much instruction in what she needed to do regarding the baby. She had only told her to have the child despite the turmoil she knew it would bring. Merope would have thought that most people, under similar circumstances, would advise her to abort or possibly do away with the baby, if they foresaw the trouble the child would bring. But Cassandra just expected her to trust in life's balances and to hold onto the goodness within herself and in this world. Despite the great evil that would be born, Cassandra felt it best to let the good outweigh the damage that this child would cause, and that it was life's natural course to let good prevail.

But Merope still felt her concerns burning inside her. Most proud parents would have high hopes for their child's future. But she could not see what to hope for when she thought of her child causing so much pain and suffering. If she were a Muggle living a Muggle's life, then maybe things would be different. And that's when it struck her.

What if she could live a Muggle life? What if she could raise her child outside of magic? Maybe without magical influences, he would be less likely to travel down a dark path and could possibly avoid his destructive fate.

Merope's sharp mind worked quickly as she felt hope stirring within her. It would be hard at first because of the baby, but she could get a job a little ways out from here and just save what she could. And if worse came to worst, she could do a little magic here and there when needed to help them get by. As long as the child was not aware of it, she would be able to manage what she needed just fine. Merope felt a great sense of relief as she brought her plan together. She didn't have much, other then the ten Galleons Mr. Burke had gave her, but she could make a fresh start with the baby. And what better time to do that but in the New Year! She knew that even though this baby didn't have his father with him, she had more than enough love to make up for his absence.

She loved her baby so much. Despite the lies and the love potions that it had taken to conceive him, she felt blessed to even feel some kind of love or kindness, since she had done without it most of her life. And even though he had left her to struggle, she was still thankful to Tom for being present in her life to give her the much-needed happiness that she would have had to struggle for, if she'd never done what she'd done.

Merope rubbed her belly as she felt the baby trying to calm down, "Oh sweetheart. The love I have for you is great. But it may not be enough to get us out of this rough patch right now. Until I can get us situated, I can only trust that it will have to do … at least for now … and hopefully not for long." Merope felt herself nodding off again, but this time she didn't fight it. After coming to a conclusion about what she was going to do, she felt comfortable enough to go to sleep without fear.

This time when she slept her dream was beautiful and filled with joy. She saw herself with her child. She was holding him and cooing over him, as he did the same with her. It was truly a bonding moment that she and the baby shared. But as her dream went on she could see shadows looming in the background, voices coming from them.

i "It must be dealt with now! We cannot let her leave with the child! It's too great a risk to let him live when too many others will die by his hands." /i 

The shadows surrounded her. They started to pull the baby from her arms. Merope tried to stop them by holding on to the baby as tightly as she could. But the shadows were pulling at her, trying to break free the grip she had on the child. The strain was too much and she felt her grasp beginning to slip. And then she remembered …

" i Expelliarmus! /i "

She woke up. She was back in her room. Merope looked to her belly and felt her child's movements. A sigh of relief came as she realized that it was just another bad dream. But in the quietness of her room, she could hear the whispering voices again. This time, the sounds were coming from the hall. Merope walked over to the door and tried to slowly crack it open. She could barely see them but she could tell that it was two women standing a little ways down the hallway, whispering.

i "You heard what he said! It is getting too close to time! The child will be born soon. And from what he said, it is a danger to us all. He wants this dealt with tonight!" /i 

i "You mean right now? It's still a little early, although it looks very dark outside. If he wants this handled discreetly then he should have enough patience and give us more time!" /i said the other voice.

i "No. It will have to be done soon. It is New Year's Eve and she should be going into labor soon, like the little girl said. He feels this unnaturally bad weather is related to this child's growing power. So as soon as the baby is born, we will have to take him then," /i said the other voice.

i "What about the mother?" /i 

i "We've already taken measures on that." /i 

The voices grew closer to her room. Merope gently closed the door as the two women stopped at the entrance. There was a long moment of silence, as if they were trying to listen in to see if she was asleep. Satisfied, the voices trailed further down the hall and back downstairs to the pub.

Merope felt a chill run deep in her bones. Someone knew about the baby! But how had they found out, and from whom? And what plans did they have in store for her? She looked at the clock and saw it that it was just three in the afternoon. However, from the way it appeared outside, it looked very late in the evening. She didn't have much time! She gathered herself and the few things she had together and made her way into the hall. No one was around during this time and everything was quiet. She crept down the hallway towards the stairs to make her exit.

As she reached the top of the stairwell she did not hear any voices below. With the weather being so bad outside, the pub did not have many patrons this day. But she did notice a few shadows looming around. She inched her way down the steps, being careful not to be seen or heard. Once she got near the bottom landing, she saw the two women again, cleaning off tables and straightening the chairs. No one else was around. The ladies picked up the dishes and their cleaning supplies and made their way to the kitchen. Merope used the opportunity to make her move to the door. She walked out onto the streets and into the Muggle world. She felt somewhat safe but very cold. It was frosty and windy outside with snow up to her ankles, but in her mind she was still safe. Despite feeling betrayed, she was still determined to make her way for her and the baby. And she was even more determined to keep him safe.

She hoped her escape had gone unnoticed … but it hadn't. Still, no one made any attempt to go after her.

The barmaid looked out the door and saw the small footprints in the snow that led away from the pub. She smiled and locked the door, then went to the fireplace to throw some powder in it.

"Ministry of Magic. Department of Mysteries, Level Nine."

The flames turned green so she closed her eyes and stuck her head in. When she opened her eyes again she saw an old man sitting at his desk holding a small glowing orb.

"It has been done," she said.

"Where is the child?"

"Well - we don't have the child. It hasn't been taken care of just yet." There was a little strain in her voice.

"WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? You heard the prophecy you extracted from the little girl. YOU KNOW WHAT IS AT RISK AND YOU LET HER GO?"

"Sir, with all due respect, you wanted this problem handled discreetly. If word got out that you were planning to take the newborn, however dangerous that child may grow up to be, there would be an outcry within the Ministry and our government would be shaken," she reasoned with him.

"Then tell me, how do you EXPLAIN letting this woman go and the child with her? The time is drawing near for this evil to be born!"

"She has not had the baby yet. We gave her the sleeping and binding potions with her meal this morning. She's been fighting sleep for most of the day, so we had trouble taking the child then. But she won't be struggling much longer. With the bad weather outside, she will be discovered in the streets dead. The child will die with her. The Muggle authorities will chalk it up to another homeless person getting caught in the harsh winter cold. They have no way to detect the potions, so there will be no further investigation into her death. All will be cleared and the child will be no more."

There was a long silence as the gentleman considered her words, "I hoped it would not come to this. I would have preferred the child to be taken someplace where it could be kept under observation."

"Sir, you said yourself that this child will bring some unspeakable terror into our world. This is for the best," she said.

"Maybe. I know our job is to do whatever is necessary. So I guess we were left with no other alternative. You had better be right! The child's power is great even from within the womb. It is very unnatural. For the last nine months that woman has been a walking time bomb. Each episode she had kept getting stronger and more destructive. No one in the Ministry is taking this seriously! Her family history alone should be cause for worry. There is no telling what influences that child would have been raised with, from that Gaunt woman. Yet Ms. Cassandra Trelawney has her supporters within our government, so there was no way for us to approach Merope to take her in. No one wants to stand up and take the risk because they're afraid of how it would look," the man said with a somber tone.

"Well it won't be a problem much longer. My regret is that we couldn't reach her sooner. The child's powers prevented us from getting into her room the first night. By the time we were able get inside, there seemed to be some shield surrounding her. Every time we tried to touch her, we had to fight off furniture or flying objects. It was as if the child knew we were coming. We couldn't administer the other dose until she woke up. That bound the mother's and child's powers until we were able to get to her… and take the child."

"Well now she is out there with the baby. Are you sure that potion is going to work?" asked the man.

"Sir, as bad as it is outside, whether it works or not is not the issue. She will be dead before we know it. Between the sleeping potion we gave her and the cold conditions outside, she will not get far. Muggle authorities will discover her body once the weather has cleared. It will look like a tragic coincidence." Silence again came from the man. "Sir, are you starting to have doubts?"

"No, no. Ms. Cassandra passed earlier this morning. I was able to see her just before she died. I was trying to reason with her about the situation. But she wouldn't budge on her opinion on Merope and the baby." The man leaned back some as recounted his final moments with the great Seer. "I was able to extract the memory of her recent talk with Merope. She looked into the child's future and saw the great danger it will bring. Yet Ms. Cassandra still relied on hope that things will work out. That maybe there is something about Merope that will avert the trouble ahead."

"Then do you think we're being to rash in our efforts, sir?" the barmaid asked.

Again more silence from the old man as he weighed his thoughts, "The things that I saw in her memory … the horrors that it will bring … we're doing the right thing. Some people may think otherwise, but our position does not afford us the luxury to reconsider. With the way that woman has been brought up in that family, there's no telling what she could teach that child. I cannot rely on mere hope when the future of the wizarding world is at stake." He was resolute in his position on this. He sat more upright in his chair as he looked at the face in the fire. "Make sure you wipe the memories of your associates. I do not want any lingering thoughts of Merope's visit in your establishment. I've already wiped little Sybil's at her great-great grandmother's. I'll put these visions in a safe place. We'll let nature's fury handle the rest."

"What about the other members of the Ministry?" she asked

"They're not looking at the situation seriously enough in the first place. They find it hard to believe that an unborn child is exhibiting such magical potential. It's really unheard of, and they think it's being blown out of proportion. So when word of her death gets out, they will not give it a second thought or consider any foul play. And since dear Cassandra has passed, there will be no one around to raise any doubts. After tonight, we will not speak on this any further. Our job is done."

"Well then, Sir … Happy New Year."

"Indeed. Once this night is over with. Happy New Year to you."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: _Holding onto Hope_

The harsh winter wind felt like needles against Merope's skin. She had put a good amount of distance between her and the Leaky Cauldron. The adrenaline rush from her escape had gotten her far away from the danger, but now she was running out of steam and out of time. She could barely feel her feet hit the ground as she walked. She was so very tired.

Merope could feel her body shivering as she made her way through the streets. It was getting late in the afternoon, but the sky made it look far later than that. The city seemed deserted. The sidewalks and alleyways were empty, with no one on the road. It was as if she was the last person walking on earth. The weather was getting so nasty that she almost regretted leaving the warmth of her room. But under the circumstances, she'd been left with no other choice. Someone out there wanted to take her baby. And for the first time in her life she felt the instinctual need to protect herself.

Merope decided to duck into a narrow path between some buildings to shield herself from the ice storm. Her hands were so numb that she fumbled with her wand when she tried to start a little fire. She did a few flickering motions at the trash barrel to get the flames going, but nothing happened. She felt so cold and so exhausted that she found it hard to concentrate on performing the spell. She was unable to create the warmth she needed in this harsh winter environment.

Fatigue weighed so heavily on Merope that she couldn't start to panic. She knew that if she didn't find a decent shelter soon, she and her child would perish. Yet she wanted so desperately to sleep. Her mind felt as though it was bargaining with death itself.

"It wouldn't hurt if I just nodded off for just a moment." She took some old newspapers from the garbage and curled up beside the barrel. "Just for a moment …"

As soon as her eyes closed she felt herself falling into an abyss of darkness. Once the sensation stopped, she saw that she was in a smoke-filled room filled with strange-looking candles that emitted neither warmth nor real light. There was this strange ominous glow from within the room. She saw an odd man with a very long beard wearing some ornate robes sitting on the floor of the room. There was another sitting across from him, wearing a black cloak with his hood up. The strange man was speaking to the other in a language that she was not familiar with. But the other man seemed to understand him quite well.

The odd man motioned to the corner where a small boy stood. The little boy looked scared but was very obedient to the man's call as he kneeled before him. The man pointed out the child's appearance to the other, as if to make reference to the boy's innocence and purity.

Then in one swift and savage motion, the man slashed the boy's throat with his sharp fingers.

The other man did not flinch as he saw the boy's blood splatter to the floor. He didn't even cry out in protest as the child screamed his last breath. He just looked to the other patiently as he waited for him to make his next move.

The strange man pulled out a plain, small object and placed it on the floor between them. Then he demonstrated some more eccentric behavior as he went into a bizarre chant. Merope still couldn't understand anything the man was saying. But the other listened to him very closely and soaked up every word. Finally the man stopped as his body went rigid. He took the object and held it out in front of him. With his gaze looking upwards and his mouth wide open, a tiny speck of light slowly passed from the man's lips.

As small as the light was, it illuminated the entire room, filling the place in its radiance. That's when Merope was able to recognize the other person; she saw her son. His handsome features had diminished greatly but he still had his father's beautiful eyes. Merope could feel her heart sinking at the sight of him.

"Love, what are you doing?" she thought to herself.

The speck of light hovered in the air for a moment then planted itself on the object that the man was holding. The object glowed a few seconds, then dimmed. The man placed the item back on the floor between himself and Tom. He looked to Tom and gave him a nod of understanding. Tom looked at the man, then looked back to the object and nodded in agreement.

"I see," Tom said.

There was a strange crackling laughter that filled the air as the image of her son and the stranger disappeared. Merope opened her eyes to see that she was back in the small alleyway next to the trash barrel. She felt so heartbroken that she just sat there, freezing in the cold. She felt she had no more courage left. So Merope closed her eyes once more and resigned herself to die.

"Get up."

Merope shrugged off the voice she was hearing.

"Get up, Merope," the voice pleaded.

"I can't," she said. "I can't do it!"

"You mean you won't," said the voice. Merope sat there quietly, not wanting to respond. "Are you giving up so soon?"

"This child was conceived with lies, lies that I made! It's all my fault! Let me do this. Let us die here so that no one else will be harmed by my foolish error." Merope could feel a tear freeze up as it ran down her face.

"There is more to this than meets the eye, Merope. More than what you know."

Merope looked up to see a little boy dressed in a long white robe, with beautiful green eyes and untidy hair. He had no coat or shoes on his feet as he stood in front of her in the freezing cold. Yet there was an aura of serenity about him that lifted Merope's spirit.

"Please get up, Merope," he said again with his hand held out to her. Merope was still reluctant, but she took it anyway. As soon has her fingers touched his, she felt a sudden rush of heat that thawed out the iciness in her body.

"Who are you? Are you ... an angel?" she asked.

"Lets just say that I'm a friend of a friend. Therefore, I am your friend. I've been sent here to help you," he said and smiled at her. Merope couldn't help but to smile back at him, until pangs of guilt settled on her.

"I don't understand … why?" she said.

"You don't understand why you have been given this lot? Why you are being forced to see these terrible visions of pain and self-destruction and then be made to give birth to this child, when others prefer that you die? You ask yourself, 'Why me?' You feel you have done enough damage in your life by bewitching a man to love you. So why give birth to someone who will bring such terror into the world? Why is this task put to you?" Merope was nodding to every word that he said.

"Maybe it's so hard for you to understand because you were born with magic. You can easily get the answers you seek with the simple wave of a wand or by speaking some incantation. But others who are not so magical rely more on faith in order for them to believe in something that they do not see. Maybe that is why it's so hard for you to take that same leap and simply believe that things will be alright in the end."

"But how, after what I've done?" she asked.

"You have endured so much tragedy that there can only be good to follow from this, Merope. From the vile acts that your father and brother put you through, to the loss of the great love of your life, you've emerged feeling broken. But you are not beaten. Considering the abuse you took for so many years, you should have given up a long time ago. Yet you are still standing. If you had given up then, you wouldn't have escaped your surroundings to find some happiness for yourself."

"But my happiness wasn't real. It was a lie made up by the potion I made," she retorted.

"Merope, the potion you made gave Tom a very powerful obsession toward you. But you took his obsession and gave him a happy life and carved out a loving home for him. The other women in his life could have cared less for such immaterial things. But you showed him such deep devotion that he will never see the likes of it again in his lifetime. So even though it took a potion to do it, there was happiness there in your times together."

"Then why did it have to end?" she asked.

"Well, to put it simply, because it had to. You have a different road to follow than he does. So it was time for you two to part. And now, you are growing close to your journey's end."

"Then what of this child? Are these visions I'm seeing true?" she asked, sensing she knew the answer already.

The boy stood there silently. His green eyes peered so deeply into Merope's own that it felt as though he was speaking directly to her soul. "He will do these things you see. Your son will cause a great amount of pain in his life. The things he will do will be unnatural and unspeakable. So yes, it is true."

Merope was not shocked by his words. She knew from her visions that her son would do some very sinister deeds. And in her heart, she knew no matter how far she ran she could not escape this truth. "Then why do it? Why give birth when I can save the world the trouble and just die here?" she asked.

Again the boy looked deep into her eyes, "Because it is not the way. It is against nature to commit such an act before your time. You would be damning yourself to a hell far worse than what you have experienced at your father's and brother's hands. I know you understand this. Why else would you try and fight? You didn't give up at the Leaky Cauldron. So don't give up now! You love your son enough to give him life. You must continue to love him enough to give up something much more."

"I don't understand," she said.

"When the time comes, you will. Now, hold tight!"

The green-eyed child began to glow. He shone so brightly that Merope was afraid he might explode. But she continued to do as he said and held his hand despite her fear. The light coming from him was blinding Merope to her environment. She could no longer see the small alleyway or even feel the cold winter storm that had surrounded her. She was completely enveloped by his radiance.

And then it faded.

She looked around to see that she was standing in the middle of the street in a different part of the city. She was no longer holding the boy's hand. But she could see him standing at the steps of a nearby building, pointing to its door. As she walked up the steps she saw him vanish, but then a woman appeared at the opening.

"Gracious! What are you doing outside in this weather! Come in child, come in!"

Merope walked into the building's lovely foyer. The woman pulled off Merope's coat and went to the side to hang it up. Merope looked around to see that the place was quiet and very warm. It was rather homey. She saw little pictures of children hanging all over the walls.

"Dear girl you would have caught your death if you had stood out there any longer! What are you doing being out at this time of night?" the woman cried.

"I was running for my life," Merope whispered.

"What, dear?"

"I … I had no place to go. I was trying to find shelter for myself … and my baby," Merope said loudly so that the woman could hear.

"Well dear, we're glad to take you in if you need. You're welcome to stay here, you and the little one," the woman said.

"That's very kind of you. Is this a boarding house?" Merope asked.

"Well no, not exactly. We are 'Our Lady of Sorrows'. This is an orphanage."

Merope felt a little dismayed at the news. As much as she had tried to change her fate, the course still remained the same. As she looked to one of the pictures of children, could almost see her son smiling back from it. She knew her time would end here … tonight.

As Merope took a deep breath to settle herself, she felt a warm sensation trailing down her legs.

"Mercy child! I believe we'll be seeing the little one shortly!" said the lady.

"I believe you're right, Mrs. … Mrs. …" Merope couldn't remember if the lady had given her name.

"Mrs. Cole, dear. Now, let's get you settled. It looks like we'll be in for a long night."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: _Breathe_

Merope marveled at the cleanliness of the infirmary. The place was very sanitary, with its pristine white sheets and shiny hygienic objects. Everything was in order, every item in its place. She wondered how long it took for them to keep it so immaculate. She'd always been cleaning at her father's house when she had lived there. Her father and brother were such slobs that she was forever straightening up, from sun-up to sundown. Living with Tom had been much easier. She had strived to keep a neat and clean home for them, but it had never been this spotless. She wondered if the ladies were using some type of magic to keep the place so tidy and fresh.

"How are you feeling?" said the young woman who entered the room. She was a lovely young lady who was just a little older then Merope. She brought in some fresh towels for the birth.

"Alright, I guess," Merope said, trying to get used to the pain.

The woman sat on the bed with Merope and took her hand. "Just take some deep breaths whenever you start to feel a contraction. Breathing keeps the blood flowing, which will help you to relax." This made sense to Merope since she always took deep breaths when she felt under stress. Merope and the woman started to breathe in and out together. Sure enough, the discomfort was subsiding and Merope started to feel more at ease.

"Are you a doctor?" Merope asked.

"No. I'm just the nurse here. I would like to study to be one, but my father thinks that nursing is more of a womanly role. He said it would help prepare me to be a good wife, since I will need to take care of my husband and children," the lady said with a slightly annoyed tone.

"Do you have a husband … or children?"

"No. I'm not as lucky as you are with your little bundle of on the way. Your husband must be very proud," she said with a smile.

"I'm not so sure of that … since he left and all," Merope said, feeling a little dejected.

"Mercy, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have assumed. I suppose it is best that I am a nurse, since my bedside manner is too horrendous for me to be a doctor!" the woman said, looking very apologetic as she rubbed Merope's hand.

"It's alright. I've been on my own for so long that I've gotten used to his absence."

"Well, he must have been a fool or very dimwitted. Here you are, going through the pain of childbirth, and you still remain very pleasant. I can't imagine a husband not wanting a wife who is so strong in times of struggle," the woman said proudly.

"I doubt it was my strength that drove him away," Merope said. More like her lies that put an end to her marriage, she thought to herself.

"In any case, you are still fortunate. Children are a blessing and babies are so precious when they're born. You are lucky to have one. To think, you are hours away from the New Year! We should dress the baby with a top hat and sash when it arrives." The two laughed as they pictured the little baby New Year lying in the bassinet. "By the way, my name is Rose and I'll be assisting Mrs. Cole with your birth."

"Rose. That's such a pretty name. Girls should be given pretty names when they're born. If I have a girl, I will name her something pretty like your name."

"Well, Merope is just as beautiful as Rose. As a matter a fact, there are several Meropes written of in Greek Mythology. Perhaps the most famous one is the Merope who was one of the seven daughters of Atlas; they were known as the Pleiades. Mythology says that the sisters were walking in the countryside when Orion, the great hunter, caught sight of them. He fell so in love that he immediately began to chase them. And he did this for seven years."

"Seven years! That man was obsessed," Merope said.

"Indeed he was. The chase was so stressful that the sisters began to pray to the gods for help. The gods answered them by turning them into doves, then later into stars. The stars are known as the Pleiades cluster, which is part of the constellation Taurus. It is said that Merope's is the fifth-brightest star in that constellation. So your name is actually associated with the heavens."

"Fascinating!" This bit of information amazed Merope. She had never realized that her name could ever mean something so wonderful. She had been brought up to believe that she was nothing, since she'd been treated as such. So to hear this from Rose uplifted her sense of being.

The two women talked for a few more hours on different things, including their love lives … or lack thereof. Every now and then they took a moment to breathe through another of Merope's contractions so that she could feel more comfortable. Rose told her that she'd had a man in her life a couple of years ago. They'd been about to marry when the military had called him into service. He was going to be shipped off for a dangerous mission, so he did not want to make Rose a young widow. The engagement was broken off and he left for some part of Germany. She had written to him a few times but had never heard anything back. Rose had finally given up on him only about a month ago. Merope could tell that she'd given up on love, too.

"Well, maybe something happened to him," Merope said trying to sound hopeful.

"Maybe _ i __something,__ /i _ like being killed in the line of duty?" Rose said, trying to be sarcastic but coming up short. Merope started to rub Rose's hands in the same comforting way that she did her own. Rose smiled in appreciation. "It is very likely that he did get killed. Which is why he did not want us to marry, because he did not want me to worry. He wanted me to move on with my life in case his life ended. So I suppose it is for the best."

"Still … the ones that truly love you don't really leave, even when you say goodbye. And besides, who knows what can happen. He may show up, right as rain."

"If only a man could be so lucky," Rose said. She still continued to smile at Merope, despite having to talk about her failed romantic life.

The mood suddenly broke with another contraction. Some hissing noises arose in Merope's ears also. Merope went back into her deep breathing, but the pain was so overwhelming that she feared she would suffocate. Her eyes closed tightly as she tried to bear up through the pain.

"BREATHE, MEROPE. COME ON … BREATHE." Rose's voice sounded calm but it was very commanding as she tried to get Merope to concentrate past the anguish. Merope struggled to inhale as the contraction got stronger and the hissing grew louder.

Just then it stopped.

When Merope opened her eyes, she saw that she was not in the infirmary but in a modest-sized room with beds on either side. Rose was nowhere to be seen.

She could hear a child crying.

"Stop! STOP! I'm going to tell! STOP IT!! PLEASE!!" screamed the child.

Merope looked to one side of the room to see two children standing near a corner. There was a cute little boy dressed in a nice suit with neat black hair, and a little girl in a baby blue dress with lovely long blonde locks. The little girl was crying as she held her hands to her ears. However, the little boy was standing there calmly staring her down … speaking in Parseltongue.

_ i _"_You want to tattle on me, and you think that I would not find out? You don't tell me what to do! And your precious Mrs. Cole is not here to protect you now!_"_ /i _ the little boy said.

For a child, he had a fearsome look on his face. He went to his pants pocket to pull out something that looked like string. But the long string started to move around the boy's hand, and then slowly made its way around his neck.

_ i _"_Master, I am hungry. When do I eat?" /i _

_ i _"_Well Nagini, I have this morsel right here that should fill you up._"_ /i _ the boy pointed to the little girl. The small snake looked to the crying child, then back at the boy.

_ i _"_Forgive me, Master, but as generous as you are, she looks so distressed that she might upset my delicate nature. And then, as tasty as she is, I'm afraid she is too big for me to eat_,"_ /i _ the snake said politely. The little boy stroked the small snake in his hand. The girl started to wail even more since she did not understand anything that was being said. To her ears, the hissing conversation between the boy and the snake sounded very sinister. She started to soil herself as she looked at the two of them.

_ i _"_Well, if you don't want her, then I suppose that will be fine. But soon you will grow up to be big and strong, and some day you will eat people as tasty as this little tart here. But for now I'm sure there is a rat somewhere here to satisfy you_,"_ /i _ said the boy

_ i _"_Young Master is so very kind. Will the girl be alright?" /i _

_ i "She'll calm down in a moment. Why don't you go around the house and look for something to eat. I thought I heard a squeak in the corner."_ _ /i _ The boy put the snake down on the floor. The girl started to scream even louder.

"STOP! STOP IT NOW! TOM, STOP!"

Merope felt a flash of cold around her head and neck.

"BREATHE, MEROPE. INHALE AND EXHALE. DEEP BREATHS." Merope recognized Rose's commands and started to breathe in and out as Rose had told her. The vision passed with the pain, and Merope could see that she was again in familiar surroundings.

"There you go. That must have been a strong one! You looked like you were going to pass out for a moment. So it won't be long now. I'll go get Mrs. Cole and a few more things. The baby should be here soon." Rose left the room, leaving Merope to contemplate her situation by herself.

Merope took in more breaths as she tried to calm herself down. She tried as hard as she could to push her doubts and fears to the back of her mind as she struggled to remain focused. But she had to admit that she was getting scared as the time passed.

If she had this vision with that contraction, then how much more was she going to see?

Panic started to bubble within her as she felt another contraction coming on. It was coming rather quickly and Rose was not back yet. Merope tried to breathe like Rose had instructed her to do, but it was very strong this time – much stronger than before.

"OH GOD! I – CAN'T – DO - THIS!"

There was a flash of light in the room. Then she saw her son standing in a dark cave in the middle of a small island, surrounded by unnaturally black water. She saw him do something very familiar that she remembered from when she was in the cold alleyway not too long ago. With the same gestures and motions, he muttered the words that she still did not understand. With a slight yell, he went rigid and a light began to emanate from his body and out his mouth. He then held out his hand with something very familiar dangling from it … her locket. As before, the radiant light passed from his lips onto the object. The light was so brilliant that the entire cavern was aglow.

With the ritual completed, he placed the locket in the stone-like basin. He pulled out a bottle from his robe and proceeded to pour out the contents into the bowl with the locket. Then with a wave of his wand, the stone structure glowed green. His task was completed. Her son looked very frail and almost shaken. Merope thought the soul-splitting must have left him weak, since he stood still for a few moments trying to collect himself. Finally, her son made his way to a boat at the edge of the murky lake.

More contractions rippled down her spine; they were coming more frequently and strongly. Merope tried to keep breathing but found it very difficult to inhale, as her mind was being assaulted with more revelations of despair. This time a myriad of deathly images passed before her eyes as a new vision played out in front of her. Monsters, beasts, and men in black hoods were all gathered in a field of tombstones to bow before a cloaked figure that she instantly recognized as her son. This time when she eyed him, he had none of the distinguishing good looks of his handsome father. He barely had any features that resembled anything remotely human. But she knew it was her son, for her heart told her so. And with that, her maternal instincts kicked in, trying to reach out to him. She tried so hard to appeal for him to turn back from what he was doing. But the boisterous sounds of the gathered beings drowned out her plea.

Her heart was breaking as she tried to reach out to him. But there was nothing she could do. The awesome pain, along with her grief, was breaking her down mortally and spiritually. She knew she was going to die as she was trying to give life to her son. And she knew her son was going to take lives as he went on without her.

"MEROPE! BREATHE, CHILD … BREATHE!"

Merope could feel Rose's comforting arms surrounding her. She turned her face into Rose's shoulder as the contractions came back-to-back. Merope could feel herself leaving, as if her life was being drained out of her.

"COME ON, MEROPE! PUSH!"

_ i "Yes, dear. You can do it …" /i _

"Cassandra?" Merope wondered as she heard the voice, "is that you?"

_ i "I am with you, child. Don't give up. You're almost there …." /i _

"I don't understand …" Merope felt so tired. She thought her very essence was being siphoned from her body as she tried to bring her baby into the world. She felt so useless, yet so frustrated that nothing was happening. Her hand held Rose's tightly. The pain was getting so unbearable that she thought she would breathe her last breath.

_ i "Don't give up …" /i _

Then suddenly the room filled with the cries of her baby.

"It's a boy! A healthy boy!" Rose said excitedly.

Merope's vision was a little blurry from exhaustion, but she could see Mrs. Cole cleaning up the baby at the other end of the room. She could also see Rose's great beaming smile as she looked down on her. Then the baby was laid in her arms. Merope's heart was brimming with joy and pride.

"What shall we name him, dear?" asked Mrs. Cole.

"Thomas Riddle. Thomas Marvolo Riddle, for his father and mine," Merope said drowsily.

"Well then. Welcome, little Thomas Marvolo Riddle."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Happy New Year 

It was fifteen minutes past eleven. The New Year was not too far away now. Merope lay in the bed with her baby resting in her arms. She stroked every inch of him, looking over his little hands and feet as her fingers trailed the length of his small body.

She couldn't believe that something so beautiful could have come from someone like her, an awkward-looking figure that people stopped and pointed fingers at.

Her baby looked so perfect, so pure …. i _so innocent_. /i So innocent that she questioned whether he could grow up and do the things she had seen in her visions.

i "_If only you could stay this way forever,"_ /i she thought.

Rose smiled as she peeked in on the mother and child. She was holding Merope's coat as she entered the room. "I got it liked you asked." Rose placed the infant in the bassinet next to Merope so that she could pull something out of her coat. Merope unfolded the balled-up newspaper that she had been keeping ever since Tom had left. In it were the baby booties that she had been knitting by the fire the night she and Tom had decided to have a family.

"Could you put these on him for me, please?" Merope asked as she handed Rose the booties. Rose was only too happy to oblige her. She looked so pleased as she took them and placed them on his little feet.

Merope unraveled the paper some more to pull out another object that she had been keeping. She handed the small shiny rattle to Rose, who looked at it with pure delight.

i "_To my darling Tom. With all my heart, _" /i Rose read from it. Then she shook the small thing to hear the bells jingling inside. "Amazing that you knew you were having a son."

"Actually, I didn't. I saw it at a store with some other baby items. The salesman said that only the elite or the well–to-do would buy these keepsakes, as a way to commemorate their child's birth. He showed me a silver spoon at first, but I was leaning more towards the silver rattle. The man was kind enough to engrave it for me so that I could … surprise … my Tom." Merope fell silent. She remembered she'd been planning to tell Tom the news that they were having a baby. She had hoped the good news would help him through his recuperation. But after he'd recovered from the shooting accident, it had done nothing to keep him with her.

He had left her so fast that she never got the chance to give him his gift.

Rose understood Merope's unfinished words. She placed the silver rattle in the baby's hand, who was lying peacefully in the bassinet.

"Well, no matter. Like I said before, he is a fool to not want a strong woman like you … or this child. He's a stupid fool. Why, just look at the little one. He looks like a little emperor with his scepter in his hand. This child could rule the world some day," Rose said to Merope. She smiled at Merope and told her to get some rest. Then she left the room.

Her words lingered in Merope's mind for a while. If only Rose knew what she had seen in her visions. She had seen her son enslave the land, ruling it with an iron fist.

Merope lay in her bed, looking at the walls of the infirmary. Her body felt depleted of all energy and magic. She rummaged through her coat again to take out her wand. She remembered a healing spell that could give her body a little vigor so she wouldn't feel so drained. She spoke the words and did the motions of the wand … but nothing happened. She tried it a couple of times but still nothing happened; she didn't even get a spark from her wand. So she lay back in her bed, thinking some rest would help her regain her strength and powers.

"You did well," said a gentle voice. When Merope looked over she saw the same little boy that had been with her in the alley. He was wearing the same white robe, with the same vibrant smile that he had given her when they first met. His green eyes were brilliant as he gazed down at her.

"Hello, Potty. That is your name isn't it? Potty?" Merope asked.

"Yes, Merope …"

"How did I know that just now?" she asked again.

"You'll come to understand soon," he said.

Merope couldn't help but to smile back at him. Nevertheless, as she looked into his eyes she felt a little afraid. "I'm leaving him, aren't I? I won't be there to watch him grow or to kiss his little hands when he gets hurt?"

"No, Merope, you won't be," he said gently.

"But why? All he needs is my love. And I love him so much. I know he won't go astray if I'm with him now," Merope silently pleaded with him. Potty just grasped her hand and stroked the tears away from her face.

"I'm sure you would have been a good mother to him. But there are outside influences that wish to do you and the child harm. As a matter of fact, they've already done harm to you." Merope understood what he meant. She remembered the conversation out in the hall of the Leaky Cauldron between the two women. The poison must have been slipped into her food.

Merope thought it was somewhat ironic and almost a fitting end, since she had been sneaking a love potion into Tom's food all those months. Now someone had sneaked poison into her meals to kill her.

"But what about the baby?"

"He's fine," said Potty. "The womb is a wondrous thing. It protects the baby by filtering all sorts of impurities in the mother's body. So the baby grows unharmed."

"Then what about the future? He will cause so much destruction, so much pain. If I can just be there for him, I can stop him from causing so much devastation!" Merope tried to bargain with him again, but she could see that it wasn't doing any good. He just continued to be as comforting as possible giving her a solemn smile as he stroked away her tears.

"If only it were that simple," Potty said.

More tears streamed down Merope's face, "Well. I suppose that's what I get for being selfish and wanting more out of life. Maybe if I had been a more dutiful daughter or sister, maybe spreading my legs a little more without complaint as my brother and father had their way. I suppose this is my punishment. To be without my son."

"Nonsense! I'm her to help you not to charge you with any sin," Potty said with a surprised look on his face. "This is not a form of punishment, Merope. This is just life's way of bringing balance to things. Remember, you have a different path that you must take now. And you will be able to help your son … later. But it is not something that you can do in this life."

"Not in this life? Then what are you saying? Are you speaking about those Horcruxes?"

Potty laughed a little, "No, we won't be performing any dark magic here. Magic is not necessary in this case."

Merope felt even more exhausted as she tried to understand what the boy was getting at. "If magic is not necessary, then what is?"

Potty's smile broadened more as he explained, "I see you are still having a little trouble taking that leap that we talked about before. I'm talking about life, life renewing itself. To be reborn. Generally, this happens within a family's bloodline. But there are occasions when the soul wishes to take on a new experience. This is how … how you say … i 'Mudbloods' /i are formed."

Merope was amazed but still confused by this information. "How does this help me to help him? How can I be there to stop him from going too far?"

"His power is derived from you. Only that power will bring an end to his tyranny in the future. It must be passed on. Your life will end here, Merope. But a new life will be waiting for you as the New Year turns."

"But how do I stop him?" Merope asked.

"Your love will guide you."

And like that, he was gone. Merope was feeling even more drained after their conversation. She looked at the clock and noticed that it was just ten minutes till. The New Year was just moments away. She turned to look at her son, who was sleeping peacefully in his bassinet. She gently touched his round cheeks as she looked over his tiny features one last time.

"Oh, my love. I'm not sure how you go down that dark road or even why. But if it's because of me not being there for you, I can only ask that someday you'll be able to forgive me, because I never wanted to leave you this way." She did not have the strength to pick him up to give him a kiss. So she placed her two fingers to her lips, then placed them on his.

"I love you. I'll always love you."

Rose snuck in with a little party hat on her head, "Shall we celebrate together, dear?"

Merope didn't have the heart to object to her. Rose sat on her bed, and they looked at the clock together, "I would think this would be the last place you would want to be. Shouldn't you be around friends or celebrating with family?"

"Well, I'll see my family some other time. And since you are so nice, I feel that I am in good company tonight. Which is good because I hear that if you are ringing in the New Year with someone, then that someone will be with you in the coming year. So I hope that we can be good friends and keep in touch." Merope was happy to hear it. She could tell that Rose's intent was genuine, unlike that of the others at the Leaky Cauldron. She was glad that she'd been able to make a friend.

Merope felt so very tired but still managed a smile for her friend. "I would like that very much," she told her. They held hands as the clock was starting to wind down.

Just then, Merope remembered something, "Rose, go to my coat pocket and pull out my coin purse." Rose quickly pulled out the purse as she instructed and placed it in her hand. Merope pulled out the ten Galleons that she had gotten from Mr. Burke. "Hold out your hand." Rose held it out and Merope put the money in the palm of her hand.

"What is this? I've never seen coins like this before," Rose said.

"They're Galleons. It's … old money," Merope said as she tried to find a way to explain this foreign-looking currency to the Muggle. "But I heard it's lucky and one should hold a coin in their hand at the turn of the New Year. That way you will always have money when you need it in the coming year."

"Well, I won't argue with that. Let's hold it together." And so they did. The clock was winding down even more as the New Year was drawing close. Merope then remembered something else. She went to her coin purse and pulled out the gold vial that Cassandra had left her.

"Do you believe in magic, Rose?" Merope asked.

Rose considered this question for a moment, "I suppose I do. I believe that all things are possible. Sometimes things can't easily be explained by science or religion. One must believe in things that are unseen."

"Then take this," Merope handed her the vial. "A friend of mine told me that it could bring you luck."

"Really?" Rose looked at the pretty gold liquid inside. "Well then, I suppose I will be lucky this year. Maybe lucky enough to find a husband like my father always wanted me to do."

"Or maybe become the doctor that you want to be."

"Yes and with my newfound money I shall be a rich doctor with lots of children to care for," Rose said.

"Or maybe you'll find your love and be a good wife … with just a couple of children. Maybe he'll show up … right as rain," Merope said, feeling her life beginning to slip out of this world.

"If a man were ever so lucky."

"Well maybe not a i man. /i Maybe … just you," Merope said. "And you can have pretty little girls … who will give you pretty granddaughters … all with pretty names … like Hope … Daisy … or Lily …. Lily is such a pretty name."

"Well, if I have a daughter or a granddaughter I will name her Lily, just for you."

Rose could see that Merope was getting tired. What she couldn't see was that Merope's spirit was standing on the threshold of life. The two held hands as the time counted down. When the clock struck twelve, Rose looked at her friend to see that she had fallen asleep … at least that's what she thought Merope was doing.

"Happy New Year, Merope," Rose quietly said as she rubbed her friend's hands. "And a happy new life for us all."

Rose turned out the light in Merope's room and left her there … to rest.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When word reached Rose of Merope's death, she decided to take a walk in the park to remember her friend. Rose sat on the bench and looked out on the snowy place. It was a nice clear day with the sun shining on the icy playground. All the children were frolicking about and building snowmen in the field.

Rose dug her hands deep into her pockets to keep herself warm. As soon as she did the pretty gold vile fell to her feet.

"You drop this, Miss," said a little boy. Rose took the vile from his hands. As she looked into the boy's face, she felt a little startled but then mesmerized as she looked at his broad smile and beautiful green eyes.

"Thank you, dear."

"No problem. You should drink that. It looks like something that you should drink to keep you warm in cold weather," he told her as began to walk into the crowd of playful children.

"OK," Rose said. But as quickly a she saw the boy, he disappeared from her sight just like that.

Rose looked at the liquid with strange fascination as she remembered what Merope had told her. She started to hesitate at first, but then the vision of the little boy with the bright smile and beautiful eyes flashed in her mind. So with a leap of faith, she drank the liquid. As soon as she swallowed it she felt this warm content feeling. Then for some reason, she felt reassured that everything was going to be O.K., even better then O.K. So she made her way home.

As she reached the steps of her apartment, she was greeted with a familiar face. Well, somewhat familiar since he had a few bandages around his head. But he was a lovely sight to see. Rose's heart jumped as she leapt into his arms.

They have never left each other's side since.

To her father's delight, Rose and her love got married. They had beautiful daughters and even more beautiful granddaughters.

And just as she promised, Rose got the chance to name one of her grandchildren.

i Lily Evans. /i 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11: On Hallowed Ground 

It was a very still Halloween night. The streets of the little village had been quiet for some time. It was odd, since children had flooded the area earlier with their laughter and brightly-colored costumes, going from door to door to gather their sweet treats. Now, the evening was filled with silence as the moon cast its light over the little hollow.

In a cottage, a mother stood watch over her sleeping child. She had stood by his crib and sung him a lullaby as he'd cooed himself to sleep. Time was at a standstill for her as she lovingly looked over her son. She carefully touched the scar on his head his round little cheeks, and then the outline of his little jaw. She traced his little features over and over as if to memorize every inch of her baby. He woke for a moment to smile at his mother, then lazily fell asleep again. She felt she could do this for all eternity, but she knew she only had a moment left with her son.

"Are things in order, dear?" said a kind voice.

Lilly Potter looked up to see an older woman in white robes standing in her nursery. She smiled as she nodded at her, then looked back to her son.

"I couldn't leave him. Not just yet. James already said his goodbyes. I told him that I would be along shortly," Lily said.

"I understand, child. But help is on the way. He won't be alone for long," the woman said as she looked at the little one with her. "And … he will never be alone. " They smiled together as they watched the baby sleep.

"Strange. I thought when this moment came I would feel so distraught to leave him behind. But somehow, I'm at peace with it. Does that make me a bad mother?" Lily asked.

"Heavens no, child! Of course it doesn't. The reason you so feel comfortable is because you know he is in good hands! Plus, you were blessed to have a better life this time around. You had a family that loved you, a devoted husband who adores you, and this beautiful child. That is why you don't feel so torn as you did before. You lived a good life this time. It's just a shame it had to end this way."

"I know you're right, Cassandra. But still, I've never left him before. Even when I was alive, he was always with me. As much as I feel OK with this, I still feel a little nervous for my son," Lily continued as she looked at her baby.

"It's only natural, dear. Remember, it's all a part of your bond with him. You did a good thing back there. And he will be well protected for it when the time comes," said Cassandra.

Lily looked around the room. The little animals on the walls seemed to look less cheerful than when she'd first decorated the space. The baby's room was in a shambles from the confrontation earlier. She had done her best to fend off the attack. But when it had come down to it, she'd known what she'd had to do to protect young Harry. She looked over the crib to see her body still laid out on the floor. "He will be back, won't he? Voldemort will return. Somehow I can still feel his power on this earth."

"You are correct. His life force is still cemented in this world. It's only a matter of time before he rises up and unleashes his vengeance once more," said Cassandra.

"Then our efforts were in vain," Lily said sadly.

"Of course not, dear! Yours and James' sacrifices today were the foundation for his inevitable downfall. The next time he rears his head, there will be others standing ready to fight. And your son will be key in the next struggle against Voldemort. Everything will be put into balance as nature intended," Cassandra chimed in. But as she looked to Lily, she could see that her words were less than comforting to her. "Dear, I sense there is something else that's troubling you."

"I can tell that you have a knack for sensing things. Strange how I can pick up on it just now," said Lily.

"The afterlife is a strange and wondrous state of being. As you see your life pass, you start to see much more ahead of you," Cassandra said.

"You know, just when Voldemort entered the room, just before he killed me … I couldn't help but feel this strange sense of compassion for him." Lily pondered this for a moment.

"Compassion?" Cassandra asked.

"Yes. After all the terrible things that he's done, all the unspeakable acts, I felt compassion for the man. When I look back now, I see that I've always felt a little sympathy towards him. I didn't quite despise him like the others did, especially James. And even as I fought against him, there was some part of me that couldn't help but feel … sorry for him. Something tells me that he senses that too. Just tonight, I tried to get him to turn back from what he was doing. He could have killed me sooner, but he hesitated. He told me he wanted my son, not me. I begged him not to do it. But not so much for what he was about to do to Harry, because I knew I had Harry protected. There was that part of me that feared what would become of Voldemort if he continued. Like I was afraid for him. Isn't that odd? " asked Lily.

"In your case, not really. It's just your maternal instincts kicking in, that's all," Cassandra said matter-of-factly.

"Maternal instincts for Voldemort? I find that hard to believe," Lily said with a slight laugh.

"Dear, I find it hard to believe that you are still thinking like you have an actual brain, instead of going with your spirit, such as you are," Cassandra laughed with her. "What your mortal mind is limited to understand, your immortal soul will soon comprehend in due time. Speaking of time, dear, I hear the cavalry coming. We must depart now."

Lily gave a long and loving kiss to her baby. He woke up again to give her a smile goodbye, then nodded off to sleep. "I love you, my boy. My sweet Harry Potter."

"He has your eyes, you know. And you and James have imparted your strengths to him. Both will be useful when the time comes," Cassandra said.

"Cassandra, how is it that I know you when I've never met you before until now?" Lily asked as she left her son's side.

"Oh, Lily. You and I never met in this life. And when we did meet before, I did not know you as Lily Potter," Cassandra smiled as she took Lily's hand.

"When you and I first met, I knew you as Merope."


End file.
